Tears Stained
by MyMagentaPeach
Summary: Canon MICHAEL-Filler: It isn't an easy task for Wes to understand what is happening, with the Warblers not talking to him, Burt asking him to give Kurt and Blaine some space, and the distance between him and them. So while Kurt and Blaine try to deal with pain, hospitals,sleepless nights and Blaine's mother, Wes starts making his way back to Ohio, his own emotional baggage with him
1. Left To Wonder

**Disclaimer:** No, I still don't own Glee. Such a shoker. I know.

**A/N:**

Simply because I can, and, oh yeah, if _he_ had been around this never would have happened.

Oh, and Brittany in here, well, sometimes she does make sense. I find mostly when we don't expect it so I figured what the heck, and had her have her way.

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: Left To Wonder<strong>

* * *

><p>When his phone rings Wes is sitting in his college dorm room, hundreds of miles away from the boy just stumbling, wrapped in the arms of another, into the emergency room of the Lima hospital.<p>

xxxx

Blaine is covered in red dye.

On the whole drive over, Kurt had never once stopped clutching his boyfriend close to his chest.

Brittany had insisted on driving, rambling on about her mean motocross skills for once being handy, so Santana had given in quickly, simply handing over her car keys, not at all in the mood for an argument. They could have that later.

As they sit and wait to be taken in, Santana fills out the paperwork with instructions from Kurt and answers carefully coaxed from Blaine, given with whimpers and half-cries filled with so much pain, Kurt feels nauseous hearing them.

After all the screaming in pain, in the parking lot, Blaine in the car had grown all too quiet too quick.

Kurt fears Blaine is in a state of shock, and only the way in which Blaine is still clutching his right eye with one hand and holds on to Kurt's left with an almost crushing grip, half buried in Kurt's chest, tells Kurt Blaine has not passed out.

Kurt finally manages to pry Blaine's now madly shaking hand away from his right eye.

Kurt wants nothing more than to spend Blaine focus, warmth and comfort. But today there seems to be no way he can take away the pain.

Kurt begins to cry, realizing that for fear of hurting Blaine only more he cannot even do what he knows always helps Blaine.

He so badly wants to press his forehead against Blaine's, to calm Blaine down. Like he has done so often since they got together. To bring Blaine back from highs, out of lows.

The tears though seem to unexpectedly be good for something, be just what he needs, as they clear out the fog standing in Kurt's mind. He finally can see what it is that he needs to do, what he can do, for Blaine, for the two of them.

It is what they always used to do for comfort, in the very beginning, even before they were boyfriends.

Kurt reassuringly takes hold of Blaine's hands with his own.

Pain and emotion stirring, mixing in Blaine's whole body has tears flow thickly from Blaine's eyes. And at first Kurt thinks the red being washed down Blaine's cheeks with the fresh tears is red dye.

Then he sees the difference between the right and the left eye. "Santana, please, get a nurse."

"It hurts so much," Blaine chokes out, the pain now so strong it is pushing him out of his state of shock. Fresh waves of pain Kurt can see washing over his boyfriend's face making the tears come harder still, the red growing deeper where it shouldn't and Kurt's fears with it.

Blaine begins to sob and is slowly growing borderline hysteric, almost fighting now to pry his hands from Kurt's to press them back against his eye.

"Love, please, I, you are ble….The pain is going to stop soon, Love. We are going to make it stop," and the grip of Blaine's hands on Kurt's is a desperate plea to _please gosh please soon, I can't anymore. _

Blaine does not need to voice these thoughts for Kurt to understand. Kurt begins to run his left hand up and down Blaine's left forearm over and over, in the desperate hope to provide small relief with the distraction.

Rachel and Finn arrive moments before Santana comes back with a nurse to take Blaine in.

"Can I come with him?" Kurt's eyes are pleading.

"I am sorry Sweetheart, only family," the nurse replies genuine regret in her eyes for having to do this to the pale looking boy in front of her after all he must already have been through that night.

Rachel's hand appears on Kurt's shoulder but when Kurt looks up to catch her eyes he notices her looking intently at the nurse, "It's okay Kurt, I'll be with him. I'm Blaine's sister."

"Okay," and Kurt is not sure whether he exactly likes that there is not the slightest of hesitation or question in the nurses expression as she says it.

Kurt insists on accompanying Blaine to the examination room, never letting go of his boyfriend's hands once, but placing them as softly as he can in Rachel's and a kiss to each when he is send out.

Left to wonder.

As he steps back out into the emergency room, himself now covered in red dye all over, he finds his father standing next to Finn, who is clearly trying to explain and even more clearly failing judging by the expression Kurt is met with when Finn nods in his direction and Burt's head snaps around to find Kurt.

For a moment he sees horror he does not understand flame in his father's eyes.

Kurt, following his father's line of sight, looks down on himself.

His leather jacket is hanging half-open. Kurt cannot recall when that happened. "Kurt, oh my goodness, is that blood. Are you hurt too?" Burt asks coming to a halt a few feet away from Kurt, wanting to hug him badly, but right now not daring in case Kurt is injured and he would make it worse.

Kurt glances down at himself once more.

"Kurt?" Burt's tone is urgent, "Are you hurt?"

His voice is as thick with tears as his eyes are full of them as he looks back up at his dad, "This shirt was white, before. It's red dye and…" what follows wrapped in hesitation is a whisper, "I'm alright."

But Burt knows that look, that tone, he had seen it over and over on his son's face after his own heart attack.

Whenever they had begun to disagree on something, whenever Kurt had been afraid he might upset his dad too much, he had tracked back. It is that look that makes Burt doubt, "Kurt, we both know that is not what you wanted to say. What is it?"

"It's red dye, it's just red dye," Kurt says looking down at himself again, fingertips shakily tracing over some darker stains Burt only notices now.

"And blood," Burt finishes what Kurt can't bring himself to say out loud.

Kurt nods, eyes closing, pressing shut, tears rolling thick again, even thicker now that Kurt with his dad here finally can let go, does not have to worry about causing Blaine yet more distress.

Only a handful of tears make it all the way down Kurt's cheeks, as Kurt, eyes closed tries to push away the images, the fears and pain.

All tears that follow get caught in the material of Burt's shirt, as Kurt is enveloped in his father's warming embrace and instinctively buries his face in his father's chest. Both hands fisting into the fabric, increasingly wet with tears.

"Blaine's blood," Kurt sobs into his father's chest. "He was in shock all the way over, and then sitting down in here, he started crying and it was all red, all blood, from his right eye. I couldn't tell him, I couldn't freak him out more, so I just, I just held his hands, and when I helped him into the treatment room he leaned into me and I got his blood on my shirt."

Suddenly Kurt becomes frantic, almost jumping out of Burt's arms and begins with unzipping his jacket completely as he half-sobs, half-shouts with a trembling voice, "I need to take this off. Now. Blaine is going to freak if he sees me like that. I can't upset him more."

Kurt's leather jacket hits the floor as Burt gets a hold of him again. "Shh. Shh, Kiddo. It's okay, you are okay, and he will be too."

Burt, pulling Kurt back into his arms, turns to look at Finn, "Get some spare clothes for Kurt, will you?"

"Sure!" And with that Finn is gone.

For once Kurt finds himself grateful, immensely so, that Finn, most of the time, is not one for many words, or big ones.

Burt, hand running over Kurt's hair asks, "Why aren't you in there anymore? With Blaine I mean."

Kurt stills completely under Burt's touch. And suddenly Burt feels so stupid for not thinking before opening his mouth. Of course, Blaine is a minor, and Kurt not related, "They won't let you. I hate this kind of unhelpful bureaucracy. I will wait with you until you have seen him."

The "Thank You," Kurt murmurs into Burt's chest is a muffled sound when it reaches Burt's ears.

Burt lets out a deep sigh before he asks, "Please tell me Blaine is not alone in there."

"Rachel is with him." And Kurt does sound unmistakably bitter.

"How?"

"Dad, have you…right you haven't. Seen them together lately I mean. It has been a while since they were both at the same time over for Friday Dinner."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Burt looks so confused when Kurt pulls a little out of the embrace and looks up at his father.

"I don't know how but they look more alike every day. They so could be sister and brother, so when I was denied permission Rachel was quick to interject so Blaine would not have to be all alone. I actually am grateful for that. I just really want to be with him. He needs me. I need to know he is going to be okay."

Burt isn't sure if now is the right time, but he guesses there won't ever be one of those with this, "So what exactly happened? Finn _tried_ to explain. I did not get it."

There are new tears running down Kurt's cheeks as they sit down together. Kurt is not actually sure he ever stopped crying, does frankly not care either.

He simply does not have the energy to hold them back right now, so he has given in and now instead focuses on bringing order into his own thoughts.

Taking a few deep breaths he decides on the simplest version of things for now. "There is this guy, a Warbler, only since this school year at Dalton. Neither Blaine or I knew him until about three months ago." Burt nods for Kurt to continue. "He has been trying for a while to break us up, because he wants Blaine for himself." Burt's brow furrows at this new piece of information then he asks before Kurt can go on, "I don't get it. Why would he hurt Blaine?" Burt looks much angrier all of a sudden, "What did he do to Blaine?"

"He threw a slushy in his face, and there must have been something in it, because Blaine was screaming in pain for minutes before he went into a state of shock, and just stopped. I don't know what scared me more."

Burt's hands are balled into fists, "It was meant for you. That slushy. He was trying to hurt you." Nothing in here is a question, but Kurt finds himself nodding in silence anyway.

Seeing the utterly devastated look on Kurt's face Burt tries hard to let go of his anger. _It is not of any use right here, right now. I will get back to that later, _he thinks to himself as he unclenches his fists and pulls Kurt back into his warmth, "You are shaking, I hope Finn brings something warm to wear."

They sit in silence Burt not once letting go of his son until about twenty minutes later Finn comes back and Kurt, thankful, takes the clothes offered and disappears wordlessly into the nearest bathroom.

Once he is back, wearing black jeans and a big fluffy blue jumper that he is very grateful for right now, it takes almost another thirty minutes until Rachel comes back. Kurt keeps glancing at the clock on the wall, worry and exhaustion growing together, pushing Kurt closer to a state of desperation once again.

Kurt jumps up, grasping her hands staring at her expectantly, hopeful, and so full of fear.

"They have moved him to a room, he has to stay the night for observation, mainly because of the strong pain killers they gave him. They did some tests, and said something about more follow ups tomorrow, but for now they have to wait for the first test results to be sure what best to do next," if there is a rest Kurt does not hear it.

He sinks back into his chair, suddenly feeling so incredibly drained.

"Kiddo? Kurt!" Burt tries to get through.

"It is all my fault," Kurt sobs out.

Santana and Brittany, who have been sitting, quietly waiting, so uncharacteristically quietly that Kurt had completely forgotten they are there, speak up.

"Kurt, he, Smythe, threw that drink at the two of you," Santana's tone is angry. And Brittany kneels down in front of Kurt, resting her hands on his thighs to gain his attention, "Forget about that idiot. Blaine is what matters now."

And just like that Kurt is back on his feet, "Can I see him?"

"As I said he was loopy and exhausted when I left, but I don't think he is asleep. Painkillers can only do so much."

"Room Number?" Kurt half yells as he already rushes past Rachel, Burt at his son's heels.

"228" Rachel for once leaves out all unnecessary commentary, she is usually such an expert in delivering.

Kurt throws one grateful glance back in her direction only to see Rachel buried deep in her boyfriend's embrace.

Kurt is shaking again when he reaches for the door handle, hesitating.

* * *

><p>AN:

Next chapter, Kurt and Burt see Blaine, and Wes goes on a trip to Lima to figure out what the heck is going on.


	2. Holding On,  Holding Out

**A/N: **

I am trying hard to keep this story canon 100%.

So if something is off, or feels off to you, Please tell me!

Thanxs, M

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: Holding On, Holding Out<strong>

* * *

><p>There is no point in knocking.<p>

Blaine is drugged up and alone.

He is probably half-asleep too if the painkillers help, which Kurt is desperate to believe they do, with Blaine's screams echoing in the empty structure of the parking garage dominating his thoughts again.

When, breathing shaky, he pushes the handle down, the door slowly open, it takes a moment for Kurt to actually dare to lift his eyes form where they are trailing the floor of the foreign room.

He finds Blaine more lying than sitting in one of two hospital beds.

Blaine is propped up a little on two pillows.

One eye is covered with a white eye pad and a large patch of transparent band-aid. Kurt suspects it to be there so that new bleeding can be detected, should it occur - to be able to check without having to repeatedly remove the band-aid and irritate the cuts and general redness over and over, prominent especially on the right side of Blaine's face.

His left eye, his whole expression marked by exhaustion, he looks tired more than anything.

Kurt feels his stomach twist at the relief racing through him. Something about feeling relief at finding your boyfriend hurt in a hospital bed feels so wrong, but the last time he had seen Blaine the boy's whole body had been stiff with fear and pain. Kurt hopes deeply it is not just the drugs that have taken that away.

He has heard all the gory details by now, about the torturously slow recovery Blaine had to fight through after he had been so badly bashed years ago at that school dance. Neither of them likes to think about or mention it.

A distinct dislike of hospitals is something they have shared ever since they learned about those unwanted parts of their pasts, those unwanted and traumatic memories, impossible to erase.

Kurt always thinks he got off easy with his second hand pain of someone else dying, but then again so does Blaine when he thinks about his for the biggest part having been wounds that can heal, Kurt has lost so much with the death of his mother.

Seeing past themselves, seeing each other, acknowledging each other's pain as important, potentially bigger than their own, another reason they work.

It takes only a quick glance over for Kurt to register that the second bed seems empty, for now. Kurt hopes it will stay that way, _I can't handle any more looks and sneers tonight_. He had gotten enough of those just sitting and waiting, talking frankly to his dad about what has been going on.

Too exhausted, too upset to even attempt to be vague.

There had been looks from people he just wanted to snap at, scream at until they saw sense.

Kurt wonders if he will ever stop feeling that way. He doubts it.

A guy sitting there, waiting, clutching his arm, by the looks of it broken, had somehow found the energy to glare at him for several minutes after he must have heard the word _boyfriend_ and _I need to be with him Dad_.

But what always scares Kurt most is seeing mothers with children glaring at him like he is a pervert only looking for the opportunity to snatch one of them away.

Unfounded hate, fueled by ungrounded fears.

What is scary again about saying _I love him, he needs to be okay, I can't lose him _?

Kurt, now in this room with Blaine _Finally, finally, _wants to focus on Blaine, so pushes everything else, every thought that is not Blaine, determinedly out of the way as soon as their gazes meet fully, "Blaine, Love."

Kurt is shocked how much desperation sounds in these, his words. It is mostly need finding a voice.

The desperate need to say these words and know Blaine can actually hear them, no longer that wall of pain between them one Sebastian Smythe had put there thoughtlessly, ignorant, uncaring.

It takes only a smile to bring it crashing down.

It is enough, it is so much, it is hard.

Blaine never knew a smile so small could be so hard to achieve.

But Blaine hearing Kurt's voice could not help brighten instantly if he tried.

The way the corners of Kurt's mouth, too, turn up within a split second is a sweet reminder to him too of the love the other boy carries for Blaine. Blaine is soaking it up, the love resounding between the two of them.

Seeing Blaine out of the clothes so terrifyingly blood-like stained is to Kurt an actual relief in itself, much more so than Kurt had dared to hope just moments ago.

Blaine's gaze briefly flickers past Kurt, and the fingertips of Blaine's left hand are weakly half raised from where both his hands are resting on the covers over Blaine's stomach.

_Right, dad is in the room too, _it is the last time Kurt thinks about that though.

Blaine does not have to ask Kurt to come closer, Kurt is already there, taking Blaine's left hand in both of his even before he sits down on the bed.

There is no one and nothing between them anymore as fingertips touch, palms meet, and fingers take hold however, wherever they can.

Kurt carefully sits down to Blaine's left on the bed.

Blaine instantly moves to try and sit up, tries with all he has to get closer to his boyfriend.

It is nothing more than a moment or two, but to Blaine it is a struggle far too long.

He only stops his efforts when he finds Kurt's eyes again and understands how scared Kurt is he will hurt him if he gets too close.

Blaine takes a deep breath, settles his weight, what little he had managed to move of it, back into the pillows and then settles for words to reach his goal. Kurt.

Blaine has never been a quitter, so he makes himself find the strength to still reach out for Kurt with his right arm, no matter how heavy it feels as soon as it leaves the covers.

As he begins to try and coax Kurt into his arms with words, his left hand is still resting in Kurt's hands, "'urt, c'mer bleaz."

Blaine's words sound twisted, hacked and slurred. The sound, all it reminds Kurt of, all he knows it must remind Blaine, his Blaine, of, has tears pooling in Kurt's eyes, ready to fall with one more stab to Kurt's core.

Blaine does not miss it, "A' ye' kay, Kqurt?"

It is a simple enough question. In theory.

Kurt scoots a little closer, but Blaine knows what he wants, knows they both need more.

It is with a tug of his left hand that he tries to make Kurt understand it is okay to come closer, that _Oh gosh Kurt, I want you so much closer, I need you. _But the words get lost over and over, unwilling to roll right over the tip of a tongue that feels so heavy and a brain that feels slightly numb and useless tonight.

Blaine tries to make the so far gentle tug on Kurt's hands more forceful. Clearly he is not the best judge of his own strength right now.

Kurt's eyes widen in horror as he falls forward right onto Blaine, hands losing contact. Kurt's palms instinctively find the covers, Kurt leaning on to them, trying to keep his weight of Blaine's to Kurt tonight so fragile looking form.

Kurt half expects a pain filled outcry, fears it fully,…but there is not so much as a hiss, no whimper.

As Kurt tries to push himself back into a sitting position he finds Blaine's arms have already closed around his neck and shoulders, and Blaine shaking his head slowly in answer to Kurt's attempt to move away again, "Not 'xatly ma pann…"

"Plan?" Kurt asks, head slightly tilted upwards from where he is, chests close, still half-hovering over Blaine, eyes locked on Blaine's face, still fearing to find, any second now, a sign he is causing Blaine discomfort of any kind.

"Wan' yu clos'e. Did' n mean to pfull'ike tha'. Stay. Bleaz."

Kurt has to smile a little at this, "I am glad you still have your strength."

Blaine not easing his hold on Kurt, Kurt kicks of his shoes and careful and slow lowers himself onto Blaine's chest, right ear coming to rest over Blaine's heart.

It takes a couple of minutes, and falling into a rhythm of shared, relaxed, deep breathing, then they can feel a tranquility wash over them that they both had thought, feared, lost in the chaos, fear and pain of the hours just passed.

Blaine still wants to know, needs to hear Kurt actually say it, so he sets out to find the words once again tonight. Not fearing the answer as much anymore as he had before, the words come easier, clearer this time.

"You' kay, Lo'fe?"

Kurt is whispering at first, "Blaine Anderson, you are unbelievable!"

Blaine's right hand comes to rest on Kurt's head, a moment later it is running a little unsteady and clumsy, yet decidedly lovingly, through the hair no one else ever has been allowed, invited, sometimes even begged to thread their fingers in, to run them through.

For several minutes Kurt simply enjoys the, to him, so intimate touch, the touch that is so uniquely Blaine. Then he tilts his head up once more to connect their eyes. All three of them.

Kurt is smiling softly, adoringly, at Blaine, his chin propped up on his left hand on Blaine's chest.

"Wha' di' I duu?" Blaine asks expression questioning in a childlike way that has Kurt's smile widen.

"Am _I_ okay? Love, I think you are slightly out of it." Seeing Blaine's expression darken with more confusion Kurt is quick to add, "Painkillers."

"I sill wan' tno' you a o'kay. Say id," Blaine insists with a pout Kurt before tonight did not know could be made to look that serious.

Blaine hates how sad Kurt's expression turns all of a sudden. "Lof? 'urt?"

"Are you hurting very badly?"

"'m o'kay iv you a'," Blaine insists, trying hard to not slur his words. Failing.

Kurt can tell by the concentrated look on Blaine's face that it must be getting harder to keep talking at all, maybe even to stay awake.

As he sees Blaine's left eye-lid flutter shut and Blaine instantly forcing it open again Kurt can feel time running through his fingers all too fast. Now is the time to answer, to assure Blaine they both will be truly okay again in a couple of days, to make sure Blaine falls asleep with the knowledge that they are both safe and both not only know it but feel that way too.

Kurt still hesitates to open his mouth, desperately wanting to say the right thing, the right thing only. But even thinking the words Blaine originally asked for just now feels like a lie, _I can't just say I am okay, when I know I am not, we are both not. I won't lie to you Blaine, I can't just say it. _Kurt is convinced Blaine would easily detect the difference even in his current state, _Worse, he would feel it. I would hurt him more._

So Kurt stays quiet, searching inside still.

He finds himself wishing, briefly, to have some of those painkillers in his own system too, they could really help fighting through that haze he finds heavily occupying seemingly every corner of his mind.

Blaine can see his boyfriend's mind working away under that beautiful head of hair, still threaded between his fingers, _soft and so beautiful, that sandy brown._

When Kurt stays silent Blaine gets an idea.

He closes his eye in concentration, the one not currently swollen shut anyway, and tries to relax his tongue to force it, command it to form nothing but the right sounds. He cannot mess this up. This is far too important.

When he reopens his eyes, he gently traces his right hand, now no longer running through Kurt's hair down his left cheek then along Kurt's jaw line, to get his undivided attention for this one moment, because it is this moment that counts, counts for so much like it had back when Kurt first had said these exact words to him. Blaine remembers it still so clear, it is what he thinks about when he wakes up alone in his bed after a nightmare. The feeling of pride to have Kurt love him, more though the feeling of safety by Kurt's side, in his arms, a feeling so much bigger still since that night on the floor of the McKinley hallways, holding each other close, kissing softly.

Before tonight he had always expected that to be the place he would have to deal with an attack like this. Sebastian has made sure it is so much worse.

Blaine will never think of Dalton, of the Warblers, the people he only hours ago had been sure were his friends, Kurt's friends too, he will never think of them in the same fond way. Sebastian has taken that away. But there are things no one can take form Kurt and him. And in the end what more could matter, truly matter.

"They cn't touch…", Blaine's voice breaks a moment, "…us." Blaine stops, a little proud of himself for only that one little slur in there, a voice breaking with the strain of wanting, pushing to not speak with hesitation.

Blaine knows exactly the last time he has seen so much emotion in Kurt's expression. Two days ago, like every time they make love, so close to each other, close to coming to, both, together, unable to tear their eyes away from each other. Blaine had not known panting could be such a loving sound before they had started having sex.

Blaine briefly wonders as he waits to hear Kurt's voice, how long it will be until he will be, they will be able to do that again have sex, make love, in three dimensions. _I would really miss that, Kurt in three dimensions. _

He does not have to wait long for Kurt to speak. The words feel so warm still, even after all these months lying unuttered, stored safely away as more than just a memory but a truth they both share, both know, both are so certain of that there is nothing more to it than what they know, because they, the two of them, know it so completely, "…or what we have."

"'iss me?" Blaine asks, not wanting the moment to pass but too aware he won't be able to lean down quick enough himself for it not to slip away.

It is not the words more Blaine's look that has Kurt instantly understand how much Blaine wants this, needs to feel this special connection to him right now, "You sure it won't hurt you too bad, My Love?"

"Ma 'ead'z sill srobin'. So…sof' 'n' slo'," Blaine says with the sweetest one-eyed sleepy smile.

Kurt pushes himself up Blaine's form gently, slowly.

His weight is resting completely on his hands, once again tonight placed on either side of Blaine's head, when Kurt leans in and their lips meet.

He is not sure they have ever kissed like this before. Even their first kiss had so much urgency in it.

Many others since then have been slow, yes, but this is so different.

It is sweet and soft and tender, and lingering, most of all lingering, making it feel all new somehow.

Neither boy wanting to let go any time soon at all, lips gently dance on the surface, tips of tongues only touching in the lightest of ways, as lips part. But the feelings…the feelings rise and grow, drift and flowing warm so deep.

A little while later - Kurt's head resting somewhere between Blaine's left shoulder and in the crook of Blaine's neck, and Kurt having spend a good portion of that while gently tracing patterns with his left hand into Blaine's chest, to give him something else to focus on than that portion of the pain even the painkillers cannot completely take - Blaine sinks into sleep.

As Kurt lifts himself up of Blaine and comes to kneel beside him on the bed, Kurt takes a couple of minutes more to simply watch his boyfriend sleep, already missing the warmth of Blaine's body still in reach yet feeling so much too far away already.

Blaine stirs, apparently missing Kurt already as well.

Kurt is quick to act, pulling the covers that had slipped when Blaine had first pulled Kurt on him higher. They cover Blaine's upper body again fully now, keep the boy warm, residues of Kurt's own body heat close to Blaine. A small comfort knowing, fearing he will have to leave for the night all too soon. _What if Blaine wakes up, with a nightmare?_ Kurt does not want to think about it. Can't think of anything else. It hurts.

Kurt keeps his hands resting over Blaine's heart for a moment, knowing how it is one of Blaine's favorite things to sleep with Kurt resting on his chest. Calming to Blaine for a reason he has not been able to communicate to Kurt so far. Kurt has told him he would love to know, but really does not have to. Has told him how mindblowingly happy it makes him to be able to make Blaine feel that way.

There is a warmth to the sound of a beating heart, Blaine's heart beating, that Kurt misses every night they are apart.

When Kurt eventually looks up and his eyes meet the blank wall above the headboard of Blaine's bed, he is reminded that Burt should there too.

Looking around Kurt quickly finds that he is no longer anywhere in the room, and notices for the first time that the door has been closed.

Getting of the bed and slipping back into his shoes Kurt reluctantly takes his first steps to open the door to a world so uncertain, so void of Blaine the thought of having to be in it hurts.

When he steps out into the hall he finds his dad leaning against the wall to his right.

"Dad?"

"Hey. I did not mean to, you know,….You looked like you got along fine. The two of you. Anything I can do?"

"I don't want to leave him alone," Kurt whispers, head hanging, fearing it is too much to ask.

Pushing himself of the wall and turning to fully face his son Burt takes Kurt's right hand in both of his, silently asking Kurt to look at him.

When Kurt looks up he sees a gentle expression on Burt's face that is nothing but reassuring, "I figured. So I already send Finn and all your friends home, and then I talked to the nurse on nightshift and she said the second bed in there is not occupied at the moment, and for sure won't be for the night. They have a lot of empty beds right now. So no one will be disturbed."

"Does that mean..?" Kurt can hardly believe it, especially with the frightening way in which the hospital visit had started in the emergency room.

Burt is relieved to see his son smiling again, "Yes, you are free to stay with him until he gets discharged some time tomorrow. Well," Burt adds with a look at his watch, _01:32 am_, "I guess technically some time today. The nurse said the treatment in cases like his is usually ambulant. His parents are out of town?"

"It's the last I had heard, but to be honest we did not talk about that right now. He was very exhausted."

Burt nods understanding, "Well, we can see about that tomorrow. He can always come home with us."

In the next second Burt has his arms full of Kurt.

"Thank you Dad! For everything. I could not imagine leaving him alone. Especially tonight, in a hospital."

Burt knows this is what Kurt wants, he does not doubt either that it is what Blaine needs, knowing a big chunk from his history too. But holding Kurt like this uncovers something in Burt too, old memories stirring doubt like dust, and he feels the need to make sure Kurt will not hurt himself doing this for Blaine. That would do no one any good. Kurt needs his strength too now, for both of them.

Burt, holding Kurt as a newborn in his arms in this very hospital, some floors up, had then hoped to protect his son well into at least Kurt's twenties, maybe thirties, from having to learn that very lesson. It is a harsh, unforgiving realization after all, that relationships are not only about love and fun but in a big part about caring for and carrying each other when one of the two is fragile, hurt, in pain.

Burt knows too that it has been a long time already since Kurt has learned that lesson, watching his father grief his mother's death. Seeing him stumble with no one to hold him, help him up when he fell, for so long.

Kurt had tried to be the one to catch him, every time. But there is only so much a kid can do.

And then Kurt had been the one hurting, falling, and Burt will never forgive himself for those lost years in which he had allowed things to just go on. Allowed for Kurt to stumble through life, feeling alone, lost.

No, Burt will never forgive himself for that, knows there is no making up for it.

There is only being a better father now, to Kurt. To Blaine too, as much as he allows it. _The kid is proud_, it is not the first time Burt has that thought, _strong too. Much stronger than most people I know. He never just held him, he helped Kurt figure out how to stand on his own again, despite the hurt and pain, even with it still there._ Burt knows that too all too well, _Some pain never leaves._

All this in mind, Burt is sure he has to ask, as much as he hates to bring it up at all. Ask maybe simply to allow for Kurt to unload some of the angst buried in him right now under the worry for Blaine's well-being.

It is what kills relationships every day, pushing your own fears and pain away, because people think they have to do so in order to be there for others. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Burt is not sure Kurt is completely aware of that yet, _so young_. So it is up to him to allow Kurt to let go, to make room for the love he needs, the strength he needs to be there for Blaine's recovery.

Burt finds himself dreading what emotions stirred might do to his boys, more so than the physical scars that might be left. It will be so much easier to help out with those. Those he can see.

As Kurt pulls out of the hug and their eyes meet, Burt knows it has to be now or never, never clearly being a really stupid idea, Burt is absolutely certain.

"Kurt, are you sure it won't drain you too much? Blaine will be in pain for quite some time. I won't do either of you good for you to lose all your strength tonight."

Kurt seeing the concern on his father's face moves right back into the hug, "I am sure, Dad. I will get more rest here, knowing I am here for him should something happen, than I could alone at home tonight."

"I could stay with him," Burt offers.

And Kurt hugs him tighter at that, "I love you so much. It's okay. I think I might be not as afraid of hospitals anymore as I used to be. It is where you got better. It is where Blaine got help tonight."

It takes them a while to say goodbye, Kurt promising to try for at least a couple of hours of real sleep, "You can always snuggle up with Blaine in his bed if it helps, no one else is there, no one will care."

Burt's suggestion is met with a blush that makes it all to clear to Burt that Blaine's bed, Blaine's side has been Kurt's plan all along.

"Okay," Burt replies to Kurt's reaction with a warm smile, pulling Kurt in for another hug, placing a kiss to Kurt's hair.

Kurt tries to talk Burt out of coming back in only a couple of hours from now, but only half-heartedly, because really he wants both of them there, Burt and Carole. And his dad insists anyway, and Kurt knows Carole will too as soon as she has heard all the details.

And Kurt has never been more grateful his dad will be by his side, for himself and Blaine.

"We'll make sure Blaine knows we are right here in the hospital if we cannot get the doctors to allow us to be with him for his final tests," Burt says before letting go of his son and watching him disappear back into Blaine's room a soft "Goodnight," slipping form Kurt's lips, Burt quick to echo it in an even softer tone.

As Burt turns to walk away the first thought is, _I need to tell Carole_, followed closely by, _And then we should get some sleep too. Tomorrow will be a long day. _

xxxx

It had been an unexpected phone call that now already lies hours in the past, but what Wes got to hear is still very fresh on his mind.

"They did what? You are joking right?"

There had been silence on the other end, filled with only shame.

"How on earth did that guy get the council to sign off on throwing a slushy in someone's face? Blaine, of all people."

Jeff's voice had been small, "It was meant for Kurt."

A statement that had shocked Wes only more, "Jeff? How? He was bullied so badly at his old school before his stay with us at Dalton last year. You knew that. You _know_ that. Trent, David and Nick at least do too. And I know I don't have to remind you of what Blaine has been through. He is our friend damn it. Everyone knew and no one tried to stop that idiot? How is that possible? The slushy being meant for Kurt" Wes had paused and let out a deep sigh, shaking his head at the ignorance he had had to learn about, _stupidity really_ Wes had thought before talking on "…I take it you know that makes things only worse if anything."

"Yeah, I know. And I feel horrible about it, not just because it hit Blaine. I used to be close to Kurt too," Jeff had choked out, sniffling on the other end of the receiver.

"We both know at least a handful of guys in the Warblers who have been victims of bullying. How could they allow that? Jeff?"

"Yes?"

Wes suddenly had realized in the middle of the call that something else must be fishy there. At least in his time they used to vote on everything, no matter how insignificant, "How did that Smythe guy convince the council to even propose such a thing?"

The answer Wes got had not only been a smack in his face considering all the hard work he had put into keeping up high standards in the group while he was one of them, but went against all tradition too.

The moment he got his answer was the one he had known he will have to go and see for himself what the heck is going on at Dalton, as soon as possible, "We don't have a council anymore."

The conversation had gone on a while longer after that, Wes still hoping there was some sense to be made out of this somewhere.

But even now, spending most of the last three hours lying on his bed, thinking about what exactly will be the best move, Wes still comes up pretty much blank.

He is all too aware how late it is in Lima, and after all, from what Jeff said it seems to have simply been a slushy.

_Blaine will have recovered from the shock by tomorrow._ _Well, the physical part of it. That level of betrayal will be much harder to get over._

But Wes still has the hope he will be able to help with that part, so _Yes, calling Blaine tomorrow seems like the only right thing to do. I can go from there._ _Maybe then I will know, too, what it is that is really going on. There must be more to it than a stupid attempt at psyching out the competition. Especially if Kurt alone was the target._

Jeff had been wildly unhelpful in that respect. _Which is strange_, Wes only comes to think now, unable to shake the feeling that Jeff for some reason had held out on him.

_Calling Blaine. Yes. Only right thing to do, _Wes has himself convinced as he turns onto his side, coming to stare at the white wall of his dorm room.

He is completely unaware that still hundreds of miles away, Kurt having crawled into a hospital bed and snuggled into Blaine's side, only moments ago, is doing the exact same thing, staring at a whitewashed wall, thinking of Blaine.

The boy having an uneasy sleep right now, heart beating too fast under Kurt's fingertips, so much so that Kurt briefly considers waking him up.

But Kurt knows something else to try first, he can always still wake him.

Moving his head to rest right over Blaine's heart again, left hand running tenderly up and down Blaine's side, Kurt humming softly into his boyfriend's chest, there is finally calm and sleep, for both of them, while Wes still lies awake, still staring at a blank wall.

* * *

><p>AN: This kept growing and growing so yes there will be a third part to complete the story, maybe I will need a fourth.

**Next Chapter** will definitely include this though: _Wes tries to reach Blaine and ends up talking to someone else altogether._

Hope you enjoyed reading, helpful critic is always welcome. What did you think about my attempt at slurred speech? I did not want to chicken out and just write 'he slurred.'

Reviews would be lovely, and will honestly get you the next chapter faster. They really just stimulate the writing process, I can tell you from experience.

Thank You for reading!


	3. Calling For Answers

**A/N:**

**Thank you so much to all my reviewers and subscribers. **You make writing this a real joy.

I absolutely love hearing your thoughts. They are real precious to me. Can't wait to hear more from you.

THANK YOU

One thing I could not make sense of: the changes in their clothing in Michael. Seriously _so_ random.

And I noticed in the hospital scene I gave Kurt a white T-shirt and longsleeved leatherjacket instead of a leather vest and black turtleneck. Apologies, but it fitted so nicely. I hope you can forgive me for redressing Kurt like that. In fact I hope you even liked it.

So, yes well, I ignored the clothing of the whole cast in Michael, in favor of creating a timeline for Michael week that actually makes sense, even if it means Kurt wears the same outfit two days in a row, or three different ones in one day, the former we all know he would never do, unless it is a cheerleading uniform and oh yeah, when he is in a funk.

Yes, please go ahead and try out my timeline when re-watching the episode. Let me know if you think it makes less or more sense.

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: Calling For Answers<strong>

* * *

><p>When Wes picks up his phone the next day - after a night's sleep filled with weird dreams of the Warblers two-stepping all with slushy cups in their hands, and him yelling at them for the infuriating inability to not spill them all over their blazers while performing a number - it is about lunch time in Lima, so he tries Blaine's cell phone.<p>

He is not prepared for the deep male voice that answers.

"Hello."

"Um, hello. Sorry, this is Blaine Anderson's phone right? Is this…is this Mr. Anderson?"

"This is Blaine's phone, yes. But actually I'm Burt Hummel."

"Oh, Kurt's father."

"Yes. Who am I speaking to?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Hummel. I am Wesley Montgomery. I'm a friend of both Blaine and Kurt. We all met at Dalton."

Wes is taken aback by the rough and fast change in tone on the other end of the line, "Why are you calling? Blaine is in enough pain, he does not need to be mocked by you guys on top of everything else. Goodbye."

The last word is spoken with anger so intense you could call it fury.

Wes is so taken aback by it being directed at him he almost forgets to ask what any of this is about, "Wait. Please. I don't know what you are talking about? Blaine is hurt? I…"

"How could you not know that? You guys threw a tainted slushy in his face last night."

"Shit! What?" Wes cringes, both at the new information given and his use of a swear word with Mr. Hummel. _Gosh, how could I do that. _But his focus shifts again quickly, _Oh My Gosh, how could they do that. _

"You didn't know?" Burt asks, still angry, but voice, too, shaky with doubt.

"I am _so sorry_. I had _no idea_, and the one Warbler I spoke too, I think he did not know either."

"What do you mean the one Warbler you spoke to?"

"I'm sorry, I think I should have been clearer about that, I _used_ to go to Dalton. I graduated last year. I'm in college now and last night I got a phone call from someone still at Dalton and in the Warblers who told me Blaine had gotten slushied. That is all I knew. I swear. So I'm calling today to check on him, because that must have been upsetting I'd thought. I had _no idea_ he is seriously hurt."

"In that case, sorry I yelled at you" Burt says voice apologetic and much less edgy now but still not exactly relaxed, "I thought you were one of them. I can't believe no one stopped it from happening. Clearly none of them ever has been slushied before if they thought even a normal slushy was a harmless idea. You know, kid, that hurts bad enough."

"I can't believe it either. How badly is he injured?"

"Blaine had to spend all night in hospital. Thankfully Kurt could stay with him. They were both so…" Burt cannot think of a word strong enough.

Falling silent himself Burt does not miss how saddened, more than anything, Wes sounds when he replies, "Blaine hates hospitals."

"Yes. Kurt isn't a fan either," Burt replies, voice finally growing gentler again.

"Where is Blaine now?" Wes tries to keep the sliver of panic he feels rising in his chest out of his voice but only half succeeds, and Burt thinks _if he cares that much, maybe he can be trusted, at least trusted with a little more information_.

"My wife and I went to meet both of them in the hospital this morning and," Burt sighs deeply, "they did some more tests they hadn't been able to do last night. This morning the swelling on his right eye had gone down enough, so, well, he has to have surgery, something about his cornea being scratched pretty deep."

Wes is speechless for a moment. _How can it be that serious? How could anyone do this? His… friends?_

"Wesley, you still there?" Burt asks surprised by the silence.

"Yes, Mr. Hummel. Sorry. I just, I can't believe they actually, really allowed that to happen. I know most of those guys. Well, at least I thought I did. The guys I knew last year would never have been capable of doing this."

"Kurt said it was that new kid, Sebastian something."

"Yes, I heard last night that it was his idea to slushy Kurt." Wes pauses a second as he claps his free hand over his mouth, then nervously runs it through his own hair over and over. "Oh my gosh, did I just…I hope you knew it was Kurt they were aiming for. I don't want to upset anyone further."

"Relax, Wesley, no one said it out loud to me at first, but I figured as much when Kurt started to explain."

"What did Kurt say?"

"I'm not sure he would want me to tell you. Sorry Kid, but I don't know you."

"No, no, I get it. Of course. I, um, is it okay if I stop by tomorrow? I really want to see Blaine. I take it he is with you?"

"For now, yes, but his mother will come pick him up in the late afternoon, so I'm not sure where you will be able to reach him tomorrow. The way it looks now at his parents' place. The surgery is scheduled for Friday morning, so he will be back in the hospital then. When are you exactly getting here tomorrow?"

"I am not sure just yet, Sir."

"Okay well, it will be an ambulant procedure, unless there are complications. And since Kurt won't let Blaine out of his sight if he does not absolutely have to, maybe give Kurt a call when you know the details of your stay? He will know where to find Blaine if he isn't right with him anyway."

"Can I talk to Kurt or Blaine now?"

"Sorry, kid, Blaine is asleep, and he needs the rest. My wife is with him. And Kurt had to go into school for two classes with tests coming up very soon, and to hand in some essay. He also wanted to tell their friends in Glee what the tests on Blaine's eye this morning came to."

"Oh, okay. Thank you for letting me know this much. I appreciate it."

"I'll tell Kurt you called. I'm sure he will call you back some time today, but giv'im the time he needs please, he has enough on his mind already."

"Of course. Thank you again for talking to me. I am so sorry for what happened."

"If you are who you say you are this is in no way your fault."

Burt does not miss how sad Wes sounds, "I thought I had taught those guys better than to attack people."

Burt lets out another deep sigh, "Yes. I…the way Kurt talked about the support he got there last year I just cannot understand how…. If you try Kurt's number at some point and can't reach him, you can always try the house if you like, or Blaine's phone, I will hold on to it for now," Burt quickly gives Wes their home number.

"Thank you Mr. Hummel. Goodbye."

"Bye kid."

xxxx

Burt had settled himself on the living room couch during the talk. As he gets up and walks back into the kitchen, phone still in hand, Carole comes down the stairs.

"Isn't that Blaine's phone?" she asks as she joins her husband at the kitchen table and sees him put it down on it, next to his drink of water.

Burt picks up his half eaten sandwich and takes a bite as he nods.

"What were you doing with it?"

"Blaine left it downstairs in the jacket we had brought him with the other of Kurt's clothes to the hospital to wear. Someone called."

"Oh. Who?"

"He says he is a friend of Blaine and Kurt and used to go to Dalton."

Carole interrupts Burt, who gladly takes the opportunity to take a sip of water and another bite, "Was it Wesley?"

Burt nods, mouth still full, and forehead forming into a frown.

Carole is smiling as she answers, and Burt thinks how nice a change it is opposed to all the tension he had seen on her face since he had come home late last night to tell her what Finn hadn't been able to, already looking worried when he first saw her.

"He is a very nice boy. He was over several times last year, mostly with some more friends of Blaine's and Kurt's from Dalton."

"Well I don't know if we should still call them that," Burt says sounding bitter.

"Isn't Wesley at college now? He graduated last year, right?"

"Yes, how do you know?" Burt asks Carole, surprised by her knowing so much about the boy he, to his own knowledge, had just talked to for the first time in his life, and could not place a face to if he tried.

"Kurt mentioned it once when I asked him if Blaine was okay. Last summer, there had been two weeks in which Blaine had just been sitting looking sad too much of the time not to notice. Kurt had said it was because Blaine had had to say goodbye to Wesley. Apparently Blaine and Wesley were really close while both at Dalton. I think Blaine felt a little lost there for a while as soon as Wesley had left."

Burt nods, "He was shocked to hear Blaine is hurt. He also said he got a call last night, from one of the guys still at Dalton and that the boy appeared to have no idea either Blaine got seriously hurt."

Having said this Burt's forehead builds into a deeper frown once again. Eyes fixed on the kitchen table now.

"Burt, I know that look." Carole is glad to find Burt searching out her eyes hearing her words. "You don't believe him, do you?"

"Carole, I, I'm just not sure…. Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe I'm simply being overprotective, but Wesley did not seem too certain about that. The other boys being quite that oblivious to what had been done I mean. Don't you think some of them must have known more than others?"

"Maybe," it is the only honest response Carole can think of.

"He asked if he could stop by some time tomorrow to see Blaine. I told him I would tell Kurt he called. And to call again to talk to us if he needs to and Kurt does not call back during the day, or he can't reach Kurt at some point the next days."

Carole wonders why Burt is still looking so very grim, "What is it Hon? I know all of this is upsetting to you, especially with all that has been done to Kurt already, but there's something else, right?"

Burt, one hand running over his head says, "I just don't know who of these kids to trust anymore. For all I know that Wesley kid could be up to something too, could just…just pretend to be someone who can be trusted. I can't imagine how bad Blaine must be feeling about all this."

"I love you."

"What?"

Carole is smiling wide, "I love you for caring so much."

"I love you too," it is the first honestly happy, tired but happy, smile Burt has managed since the scary call from Tina last night, telling him Blaine and Kurt were on their way to the emergency room, because Blaine got hurt.

"Wesley is a very polite young man, I cannot imagine him having anything to do with it. Kurt and Blaine will know what to make of the call I am sure. Let's just wait till Kurt gets home and something in his stomach – he has been dodging meals all day – and he has a hard enough time being away from Blaine at all today. Let's not worry him more than he already does."

Carole presses a quick kiss to her husband's lips, "I should get back up there, I don't want to leave Blaine alone to long in case he wakes up and needs something. As drugged up as he still is I really don't want him to try and get up on his own."

Burt briefly takes Carole's left hand and squeezes gently before he has to let go as she gets up.

He finishes his sandwich and water, and starts to gather his keys, wallet and jacket, all the while trying to focus on what will need doing at the garage when he gets there, so he can finish it up quickly and pick Kurt up from school in time. He had insisted Kurt is to drive nowhere by himself today. Distracted does not even begin to describe the state Kurt had been in all morning. Thoughts never anywhere but with Blaine.

On his way out to his truck he sees that the mail has arrived.

Several letters in hand he climbs a moment later into the driver's seat planning to only quickly flip through them then toss the letters onto the front passenger seat.

But there is one letter that instantly grabs his attention and before he knows it he is on his way to Kurt's school instead of work.

xxxx

Walking down the halls to find the class Kurt should currently be in Burt starts wondering if it is such a great idea to give the letter to Kurt straight away.

_If the news isn't good, it will be all too much. But, he has been waiting for this letter so long. He is strong, he will be fine. In the best case scenario so much better than he has been feeling all day_.

And for a moment Burt stops in his tracks thinking back to the sickly pale boy with the puffy eyes and the scared expression, barely and badly hidden under a forced smile, they had encountered only hours ago.

Carole and he had found Kurt sitting alone on Blaine's hospital bed, Blaine already having been taken in for the first tests, and Kurt once again not allowed to be with him. "Just be there, I just…I just wanted to be there, to hold his hand through it," Kurt had told them in tears, through wracked sobs.

He had told them too, after calming a little, how some doctor had snapped at him about being lucky he had been allowed to stay at all.

Tears of his own just under the surface, thinking _How can people be so cruel? He is just a child. They are just children, scared and…_ Burt shakes the memory, and takes the last steps towards the room he has been headed for ever since he entered the school grounds.

It is a good thing Kurt had insisted on making painstakingly clear where exactly he could be found in the time he had to spend here today, in case he was needed, incase Blaine got worse somehow.

Burt looks in, finding Kurt instantly. He is sitting taking notes, well, trying to by the looks of him.

Burt knows that distracted expression all too well. Kurt's mind is miles away.

Usually, seeing Kurt this way Burt has to ask where, or guess.

Today he knows.

As Burt looks over to Mr. Schuester to catch his attention Burt already knows that focus will shift again, completely, only moments from now, as soon as Kurt holds that letter in his hands.

Burt hates the shock he sees when Kurt looks up at hearing his name called and spotting his father in the door to the room, _Damn, I should have thought of that, of course he will think this is about Blaine._

The father tries to smile at his son in comfort, reassurance.

xxxx

When they leave the school together only 20 minutes later Kurt is smiling wide.

Burt had not expected to see that smile for a while - after finding Kurt utterly devastate in the ER last night, alone in that cold empty hospital room this morning.

_The letter, the good news, could not have come at a better time, _Burt is sure of it.

Kurt does not stop beaming all the way home.

xxxx

It had been the last class of the day for Kurt, and he had already talked to the Glee guys, first thing as he got to school.

Today it had really been lucky to have Mr. Schuester as his teacher, he had allowed Burt to take Kurt home early, knowing enough of what has been happening to give in without further questioning.

xxxx

As they pull into the driveway Kurt looks worried for a second, a thought crossing his mind, "Blaine is still here, right? His mom did not come early or anything to pick him up. Did she?"

Burt shakes his head, "She called earlier, saying she will probably be late if anything. So Blaine is definitely here. He might be asleep though."

"I have had to be patient for so long, I think I can manage to wait for him to wake up. He needs the rest."

As they get out of the car and walk into the house Burt adds, "You can eat something while you wait kid. I haven't seen you eat anything all day."

"I had some tea earlier."

"You know that does not count as food, Baby."

Kurt's head snaps around to the couch, "Blaine, you are awake."

And Burt doubts Kurt even registers Carole sitting in one of the armchairs, magazine in hand, as he throws himself on his knees in front of the couch Blaine is sitting on, feed propped up, and leaning against one of Kurt's extra huge pillows.

"You won't believe what happened today," Kurt says excitedly, tenderly taking hold of both of Blaine's hands with his."

"Hey, you said _I_ could tell him, Kurt."

Blaine lets out a small laugh, _He looks so much more awake now than just a moment ago, _Carole thinks happily as she looks questioningly between Burt and her step-son.

"He got it."

"What?" Blaine asks, not quite following yet.

"Dad, go ahead. I will chew off all your ears about it anyway for the next weeks," Kurt says never looking away from Blaine's face.

Burt, eyes fixed on Blaine too now, after briefly glancing over to Carole who already seems to have caught on, says, "My son is a NYADA finalist."

"Oh my GOSH! Love, that is amazing," Blaine shouts throwing his arms around Kurt's neck and pulling him deep into a hug. "I told you you have a real shot at it. They would be insane to turn you down. They will see you and instantly fall for you like I did."

Blaine pulls back as he hears the sniffle, and finds Kurt's eyes, tears running down Kurt's face, "Hey, don't cry," Blaine moves to gently wipe the tears away with his fingertips.

"I just…"

"I know, Baby, it is all so much right now."

Kurt nods, wordlessly.

"I love you," Blaine hums softly, soothing.

"I love you too. Thank you for always believing in me. Even when I couldn't," Kurt says through the tears still falling, clearly overwhelmed.

"Hey, what good would I be if I could not do that for the person I love," Blaine smiles as Kurt's tears ebb away and Kurt lets out a wet laugh.

"Oh, I know a thing or two you'd still be good for," he says with a smile that is quickly shaping up to be really more of a soft smirk.

Blaine's voice drops to an urgent whisper, "Kurt Hummel you did not just make a sex joke in front of your parents."

"Shoot," Kurt's eyes widen as he turns around to find Carole and Burt still there.

But they are only smiling wider at Kurt's blush, Blaine pressing a steadying kiss to Kurt's right temple.

"Like we don't know you two are sexually active," Burt almost chimes.

Kurt's eyes grow impossibly wide, while Blaine just looks ahead stunned, _It's my meds talking. This is my meds talking, clearly. _

"That we never tried to stop you does not mean we never noticed," Carole adds smiling still.

"And yes, we love our weekly date nights, but really twice every week in the last months, we started that to give you guys some room."

"I think they really mean it," Blaine whispers uncovered eye wide.

Kurt turning back around and burying his head in his boyfriend's shoulder murmurs, "Oh wow, I think so too."

Kurt can feel Blaine's shoulders begin to shake and wonders for a moment if he is crying, until he hears the chuckle. A moment later they are both audibly laughing, holding each other close as they let go of all the tension built deep since last night.

As Blaine and Kurt settle into each other's warmth on the couch, Burt and Carole sneak off towards the kitchen, aware the boys will appreciate a moment alone after all the intrusions the hospital drama had brought with it.

xxxx

As soon as his call with Burt had ended, his head had gone into overdrive.

_Blaine is hurt. How? Blaine is freakin' hurt and needs surgery! Idiots, _"Such _idiots_," he had started mumbling to himself while first dialing Jeff's, then David's and Nick's numbers. "Seriously," he had kept murmuring to himself, "you are ignoring me? All of you? Ugh!"

For a second he had actually considered leaving an angry voicemail on ever single Warbler's phone whose number he still has, but he had quickly decided that so was not worth his time or attention right now. _I need to see Blaine as soon as possible. I hope Kurt calls back._

Now, a couple of hours later, a couple of hours filled with worrying about Blaine, finishing up a paper and mailing it to a professor with an apology for not being able to make it to class the next day, and waiting, waiting for Kurt to call, Wes is totally on edge as he types in his last details to purchase the electronic ticket for the flight back to Ohio the next day.

He tries Jeff's phone again, as soon as he is done, still hoping for, still not getting an answer.

"Never a good sign. Great, now I am talking to myself. I really need to get there. This chronic lack of information is driving me insane."

* * *

><p>AN:

So this right here is turning into something much bigger than I ever thought it would when I started it. Right now it looks like there will be like two or three more chapters or something.

I hope you are still loving it.

Thank you for sticking with me, I really want to do the love you keep sending my way for this story justice.

I have never written Wes and Burt interacting before, I thought it was high time. Them actually meeting in the next chapters, I am so so excited for that. Hope you are too.


	4. Games, Love Lovegames

**A/N:**

Last new Glee this winter, last night.

*sighs*

I hope my story will make the seven week hiatus a little easier on you.

Yes, a couple more chapters to come. I hope it brings you joy, I hope I do.

The characters have so much to say, and who am I to hold them back.

Blaine's mother is such an ass in here, and then Kurt decided Blaine needed 'more' than words to get him out of his terrible low, so yes.

Enjoy!

Gosh I hope you love this, so much work has gone into it.

Longest chapter I have ever written for anything.

0_0

I know, right.

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Games, Love. Lovegames<strong>

* * *

><p>Kurt and Blaine's moment alone turns into more than two full hours of cuddling and dozing together on the couch.<p>

It is around five when Carole comes, gently shakes both of them awake and asks if the two of them would be interested in an early dinner.

"Blaine, Sweety, your mother said she'd be here to pick you up around seven, latest. So dinner around six, how does that sound?"

Carole's inquiry is met with slow nods from both boys, heads still heavy with sleep.

"Okay," she replies softly, voice dropping to a hushed whisper as she notices just how tired they still are, "I'll get you when it's ready. Just sleep some more."

"Don't you need help?" Kurt asks, voice a croak, too thick with sleep.

"It's fine Sweety. Your dad is actually very good at chopping vegetables."

Carole and Kurt exchange a smile while Blaine has already buried himself deep in Kurt's embrace again.

xxxx

Forty-two minutes later they are all sitting around the kitchen table, each with a glass of milk and a bowl of rich vegetable soup entirely homemade in front of them.

Kurt and Blaine learn that Finn has called half an hour ago and told his parents he will be staying at Puck's for dinner, "…mumbled something about not wanting to get in the way," Burt says.

What he hasn't told his parents is that really, right now, he does not trust himself to do the right thing around Blaine. Not after all the tension between them for all those weeks this school year.

Kurt and Blaine exchange a not quite knowing but certainly suspecting look.

If Burt and Carole catch it neither does comment on it.

"I hope you'll all like it," Carole says leading the first spoonful up to her own mouth.

She watches as for a moment Blaine only steers the contents of his bowl with his tablespoon - an expression on his face that screams lost-in-thought.

"Blaine, Sweety, I thought soup might be easier on you. We don't want to unnecessarily aggravate the nerves in your face by having you chew."

"Thank you. This is so wonderful of you Carole," Blaine replies in the polite voice that Carole is used to from him. It is really the only voice of Blaine's she knows.

It worries her, sometimes, only knowing Blaine in control. Not cold or distant in his ways, but always somewhat removed. Watching, reacting more to others than acting himself.

She thinks back to the one time she asked Kurt about it, and about Kurt's answer.

"_You should see him perform. He lets all the walls down. It is the happiest I know him, that and when it is just the two of us."_ Kurt had said with a slight blush.

Even then Carole had wondered, had wanted to say, that being on a stage takes care of it all, everyone, being at a safe distance all over, in its very own way.

She worries that Blaine keeps searching out that feeling of being untouchable.

Snapping out of her own train of thoughts a moment later, Carole looks around the table once again. Everyone, even Blaine, has begun to eat.

Smiling appreciatively at Carole as he catches her eyes, he says, "This is a really wonderful meal. Thank you."

"I couldn't have cut all this up that quick hadn't it been for Burt," Carole replies smiling back.

"Thank you Dad, Mom," Kurt says looking into the round.

Carole beams at Kurt in answer, unable but also unwilling to help it.

He has called her mom before but hearing it from someone other than Finn…_feels special every single time_, Carole thinks_._

She is completely aware it mostly happens when Kurt is highly emotional. She does not mind that at all. In fact she is really rather proud of it, of meaning so much to her step-son that he feels he can turn to her in times at which the world moves in too close, moves all too fast.

After all, when you are in pain that is when you need a mom the most. And Carole wants nothing more than to be there for Kurt. Knowing she is wanted too, is really simply a brilliant bonus.

She had always worried Kurt might never think of her in that way, ever.

xxxx

They all eat their first bowl in silence, thankful for the homely quiet after all the stress of the last day.

"Anyone for seconds?" Burt asks already getting to his feet with his own empty bowl in hand.

Kurt nods, and Carole says, "Yes, please, Hon," smiling at Burt.

They both hand their bowls to Burt to place them on the serving tray.

Kurt turns to Blaine, "Love, would like some more?"

Blaine shakes his head in what looks like slow-motion, eyes half-closed. "N…," he has to clear his throat before the words are willing to form, "No, thank you."

Kurt moves his chair right next to Blaine's, the boy's sides now pressing into each other.

Kurt gently cups Blaine's left cheek, searching out Blaine's eyes with his own, "Baby, just lean on me, okay."

In this moment Blaine feels even too tired to nod. So murmuring a "Thank you, Love," his head finds Kurt's right shoulder.

xxxx

Blaine looks like he is completely sunken into Kurt's side when Burt returns from the kitchen, balancing the refilled bowls on the tray.

Scooping soup from the pot into the bowls a moment ago he had remembered just now what he had been meaning to tell both Kurt and Blaine, but seeing Blaine more than half asleep on Kurt's shoulder, he decides to wait at least until after dinner.

xxxx

Sure enough, by the time the others have finished their meal as well, Blaine is looking much more alive again, Burt notices with a smile.

Trying not to sound worried or alarming, or alarmed himself, Burt begins, "Boys, someone called for both of you around lunchtime." He pauses, taking a moment to look between Kurt and Blaine's faces. What he sees is the tension, gone for the last couple of hours, return into both boys bodies, and he wishes he had thought of a better way to start this, wonders what horrors they expect, given their reaction.

Now there is only damage control though, and Burt is quick in adding, "I don't think it's anything to worry about."

Kurt swallows hard before he asks, "Who was it? Not Sebastian," _Please not him, I can't deal with him poisoning my home as well, and for all I know he so would. In a heartbeat._

"He said his name's Wesley Montgomery," Burt says.

"Wes called, really?" Blaine asks, uncovered eye wide, fixed entirely on Burt, waiting for confirmation he did not just make all of this up himself.

Burt nods.

And if he still had doubts about the good intentions of Wesley, Blaine's happily excited look makes them hard to still hold on to.

Blaine is positively beaming, "Kurt."

Then there are tears, streaming down Blaine's face as his hands move to hold on tight to Kurt's.

It is a blabbing sound, "Kurt, Wes called, he…he…," and then Blaine is hiccupping into Kurt's shoulder, who has let go of his hands and turning to Blaine completely, pulled Blaine deep into his arms.

"He cares, Baby, it's okay. He has always cared, you know that," Kurt tries to sooth, left hand running up and down Blaine's back slowly.

"I just, I didn't even think he would know. How does he know?"

Kurt, still holding onto Blaine tight, asks, "Dad? What exactly did Wes say? How much does he know?"

Blaine turns his head to look at Burt, left cheek coming to rest on Kurt's left shoulder, as Burt begins to talk, "Um, he said he only knew that the Warblers hit you with a slushy, Blaine. And that it was meant for you, Kurt."

Kurt's brow is furrowed in confusion, "How?"

"He said someone from the Warblers called him, and told him so. He did not know the slushy had been tempered with though. He sounded very shocked when I told him. And then angry. He said he is coming to Lima tomorrow and wants to see you. So I told him I'd tell you two, so Kurt you could give him a call when you get the chance," Burt adds scratching his head with his left hand.

Blaine has stopped crying and is just staring ahead now, still tightly held in Kurt's embrace.

Kurt running a hand over Blaine's curls, trying to mind the eye-patch, asks, "Baby, are you okay?"

The answer comes out in a whisper, "I hadn't heard from him in weeks, I guess he was just busy. I have been so worried, thinking he just didn't care anymore."

Kurt gently cups both of Blaine's cheeks and guides Blaine's head to face him.

It takes a soft stroke of Kurt's right thumb, tracing over Blaine's left cheekbone, to have Blaine lift his eyes from the floor and meet Kurt's adoring gaze, "I wish you had told me earlier you have been feeling this way."

Blaine shakes his head, bringing both of his hands up to briefly rest over Kurt's then take them in his, fingers interlacing as they come to rest between them, linked. "I, we, we had enough to deal with. With Finn, and Sebastian, and…"

Carole and Burt exchange a look, both frowning, both wanting to ask about Finn, both knowing now is not the time. Carole is briefly thinking back to the look exchanged between Kurt and Blaine earlier, at the beginning of the meal, when Finn had been mentioned as well, _I only hope it is nothing serious going on between the three of them_.

"No Blaine, don't. That's not right. Don't ever do that again."

"Sorry, what?" Blaine asks, looking as genuinely confused as he feels.

"Don't put us, don't put us being honest with each other second, third or wherever because the world is not an ideal place. I want to know when you feel low. It is so okay to miss other people. I know how close you and Wes were ever since you first started Dalton. I want you to have friends as amazing as Wes. It is so okay to need more than me - as long as it isn't someone with Sebastian's kind of attitude."

"I am sorry."

And it kind of makes Kurt smile involuntarily to get this reaction from Blaine at the mere mention of this name. But Kurt is shaking his head too at Blaine's words. "You shouldn't have to feel that way."

"But I messed up so bad. I sometimes just miss it so bad, being a Warbler. And last year we were such a great group, I never thought they could all just change like this in a heartbeat. I miss us being Warblers together Kurt, with Wes. More than anything else about Dalton." Blaine's tears are falling again.

"Is that why you chatted with Sebastian? Because you were missing Wes? Because you still hoped every single Warbler to live up to Wes's standards?"

"I honestly don't know. Maybe."

They are interrupted by the doorbell ringing. "I'll go," Carole says already getting up, while Burt begins to clear away the dishes.

"I miss Wes too," Kurt whispers as they are alone, placing a soft kiss to Blaine's lips, who kisses back without hesitation, then pulls back as a sharp pain surges through the right side of his face, hands both flying up to his right eye to try and numb the surge with a dull pressure.

"Oh, no Baby, I'm so sorry," Kurt says, expression guilt ridden.

"Not your fault, none of this is," it is a whimper from Blaine, broken only by a sharp female voice that could were it just a little higher easily pass for a screech, "Are we sure about that?"

Blaine knows the voice all too well, so does Kurt.

_Seriously, _Kurt thinks, _I am used to it by now, but is this really the time to trash talk me?_

Blaine has to smile, even through the still surging pain, catching a glimpse of Kurt's thought, playing out on his face, then Blaine is wincing again.

"Blaine, we are leaving. Now."

_Cold as ever, great mother, thank you ever so much, _Blaine thinks, looking apologetically over at Carole standing right behind his mother.

Blaine wonders if his mother even said so much as a proper hello to Carole. He severely doubts it.

"I have business to take care of, important calls to make."

Kurt, who has been carefully watching Blaine's face for more signs of distress, looks up at her only now, "Hello to you too, Mrs. Anderson. Blaine needs a new dosage of painkillers first."

Turning his head towards the kitchen Kurt calls for his father, "Dad, could you please bring Blaine's meds with you, when you are done in there, and a glass of water?"

"Sure, Kiddo. Just a sec."

"Thank you, Dad."

The four of them stand and sit in awkward silence until Burt returns from the kitchen.

Blaine takes the glass of water and painkillers offered, with a thank you, from Burt's hands.

Burt only greets the woman standing in his living room with a nod. They have met before, stood right next to each other on two occasions, but really, with the air seemingly always surrounding this woman Burt cannot help but feel they might as well have been standing worlds apart even then.

_I don't know how anyone could ever feel close to her. _He almost physically shudders at the idea that Blaine might feel the exact same way about his own mother. _That'd so not be right._

Looking around the room Burt catches his son's worried look.

Kurt knows she will say no to him coming along, _Unless, well, there is something in it for her._

Kurt has never been so glad about being so very close to Blaine, that they are open with each other, in every way. Otherwise he might not know that Blaine had not eaten more during dinner because he still is afraid, sometimes, to get nauseous from pain-meds, or any meds really.

Blaine once told him it used to happen to him all the time when he was a small child, the mildest medication, and Blaine would be up and his head hanging in the nearest toilet, trash can, or sink.

Of course he knows too that it hasn't happened in years – he had learned about it all the first time he took care of a bedridden Blaine, plagued by a nasty case of the flue – but with Blaine at boarding school in Westerville all this time Kurt severely doubts Blaine's mother has the faintest idea about this change.

_I can work with that, _Kurt has to fight the beginnings of a grin.

"I don't think you will get much work done tonight Mrs. Anderson," he says in a calm, steady voice.

Blaine's hands once again resting in his own, Kurt can feel Blaine still under his touch, knows Blaine is wondering right now where Kurt is planning to take this.

This morning, on the drive back from the hospital, they had talked about it, and they had agreed, there is no point in trying to convince his mother to do anything she does not want to. And she most certainly has never wanted Kurt to be her son's boyfriend, will jump at a chance to keep them apart for a while, with Blaine rather helpless.

Blaine takes a deep breath, closes his uncovered eye, willing, wishing, all of this to be over already. _Honestly, it is the only thing I want to do until all of this nightmare has passed. The last tests before the operation, the surgery itself, the recovery. Just…just get through this and come out in one piece. _Still with Kurt and independent of his parents once again, as much as a teenage boy in his situation can be.

Knowing his parents, his mother, it is really all Blaine dares to hope for.

Kurt is still addressing Blaine's mother as he continues, "He will need all the help you can give."

Blaine would snort did he not feel so sad and sick inside, weren't Carole and Burt right here with them. _They don't need to get more upset. They have done so much for me already, and not just this time. _

Kurt can feel the slight tremble start in Blaine's hands and tightens his hold in comfort, reassurance – silently asking for trust.

"Is that so?" She asks still trying hard not to acknowledge Kurt's presence at all, even while talking more at than with him, always staring a couple of inches above Kurt's line of sight simply in his direction.

Blaine only reopens his eye with Kurt's next words.

"These are very strong painkillers, you have to watch his every move for at least three hours after he has newly taken them, and even after it is not a good idea to not have someone in the same room with him. He has been throwing up quite a bit today, he might choke on his own vomit if you leave him alone while drugged up."

Burt furrows his brow in worry as he looks past Mrs. Anderson at Carole. He hadn't known about this, then again Carole had been with Blaine for most of the day.

But as he finds his wife's eyes he does not find the worry he expected. Carole is simply shaking her head lightly, pressing her lips together, fighting the beginnings of a smile, hoping her husband understands what is happening.

Kurt is still talking, "He will need full-time care for the next two days until the surgery and after for at least 72 hours straight, one doctor told us."

_Kurt has no way of knowing such specifics, especially for after the surgery, _Burt thinks to himself, after all the doctors would not really tell them anything. It is then that Burt finally catches on, realizing Kurt is counting on this woman not caring enough to know any of this either, even if there was something to know. The realization comes just in time.

"Is that true, Mr. Hummel?"

And who knew Burt could be such a good liar, although he decides for now he is better off going with the easy lie. "Yes. He has been throwing up all day. Even at the hospital. They could barely finish the examination without Blaine asking for a bucket."

Carole is seriously fighting more than one laugh bubbling up in her now as Blaine, one hand placed on Kurt's left shoulder, who is still sitting, pushes himself up, swaying so unsteadily on his feet, anyone who had seen the boy getting better already during the day would be hard pressed to believe any of this.

It is a brilliant performance by both boys - one even Rachel Berry would be envious of - when Kurt jumps to his feet, wraps his arms in a steadying motion around Blaine's waist and practically drags him off to the nearest bathroom, saying, "We will be right back."

xxxx

They stagger into the bathroom wrapped around each other tightly.

Blaine topples almost over with suppressed laughter, one hand clutched over his own mouth, as Kurt begins to make some wrenching noises for about a minute – happily thus covering up all the laughs that escape Blaine's lips.

"Blaine sweetheart are you okay? Kurt is he okay?"

Kurt can make out the slight swing to Carole's voice, entirely out of place, revealing her true knowledge of the goings-on, as she stands in front of the closed bathroom door, talking to them. Keeping the act up, for them.

Kurt has never loved his step-mother more.

"Yes he'll be better in a moment. And we'll be right out."

Kurt turns back to Blaine, who has sat himself down, back leaning against the bathtub, looking indeed pale, but nowhere near throwing up pale.

"We so have to get Carole some flowers for playing along like this," Kurt says smiling for real now, and Blaine is nodding enthusiastically, completely forgetting it might be a bad idea.

Blaine abruptly stops the motion of his head, "I need a moment to breathe, or I think I might throw up for real."

"Oh please no. No method acting, Love." Taking both of Blaine's hands and running his thumbs along Blaine's knuckles, Kurt adds, "I'm one of those horrible people who have to throw up when someone else does. So please don't, for both of us."

"Mmh," Blaine says with a soft smile, growing more tired once again with the meds beginning to kick in. "I will do my best not to."

And yes the smiles are small, but they are so much more than Kurt had dared to hope for any time soon, especially after having held a so utterly unquiet Blaine in the hospital last night before falling asleep himself.

Sure there had been the whole NYADA thing this afternoon, but those smiles had had nothing to do with Blaine himself. Kurt cannot help value these here, right now, so much more.

"Do you think she will _really_ fall for it?" Kurt asks, worry overshadowing the hopeful tone he had aimed for.

"_Absolutely_," Blaine reassures without hesitation in any form, "You were brilliant. Besides she hates taking care of sick people." His head hangs with the next sentence, "Has always been like that."

Kurt moves to kneel before Blaine to not miss a word, as his boyfriend's voice drops to a whisper, "Even as a really small child it was always my brother who coaxed me back to health. After the bashing too."

Kurt, moves closer, takes Blaine's right hand in both of his and feels him shudder with all the cold Blaine feels running through his insides with the painful memories.

Within seconds Kurt is leaning beside him against the tub, takes Blaine into his arms and waits for Blaine to empty it out, all of it. All the darkness he feels.

He is hoping they will be able to leave it behind, in this room, when they leave.

With his next words Blaine's voice is growing stronger again. Kurt though does not like where this strength seems to be coming from. Blaine's tone to Kurt, one of the few people knowing Blaine's moods, reveals his thoughts to be fueled by disappointment, hate even, "My guess is she didn't drop anything, just happened to be here anyway and thought it was just an eye injury, so basically nothing, and certainly nothing she would have to take care of any further. Just sit and wait. She is great at that. Commanding people around, that too."

"That is why you have me. I know better."

"Thank you," Blaine murmurs voice dropping into softness at a mindboggling speed.

Kurt can hear them too though - somewhere in those two words he has heard Blaine speak so often before, but never quite the same twice - the tiredness, more so the sadness, unmistakable.

Kurt gets a taste of tears as he tilts his head to place an open-mouthed hot kiss against Blaine's left cheek.

The tears have been coming silently.

"Good thing we are already in here. We have all the stuff to change your pad right at hand."

"Actually, let's do that in the living room," Blaine says suddenly perking up.

"Why?"

"Once she sees she might have to redress my eye, because blood and tears seep out of it, no matter how swollen, she will practically force you to come with us."

They lock eyes and simply smile at each other, with a warmth that absolutely nothing is simple or common about.

Kurt leans in, the kiss hesitant at first, after what happened kissing before, even with the painkillers working for them again now, Kurt won't stand for causing Blaine pain in any form.

As they break the kiss Kurt adds, "Making evil plans. Are we? I love this side of you. You should show it more often."

Blaine smiling still replies, "Shall we?"

"Let's do it."

xxxx

Leaving the bathroom they take a detour to the kitchen, pretend Blaine is taking more medication since he just pretend-threw up the previous dosage.

"We will be right with you, one moment," Kurt calls from the kitchen.

It is Burt who answers, "Take your time." And Kurt wonders where Carole might be at right now, not having seen her with his dad and Mrs. Anderson as they just stepped out of the bathroom.

xxxx

They are sitting on the living room couch again, supplies brought with them from the bathroom lying next to Kurt, the boys kneeling in front of each other.

It is a simple enough procedure, for Kurt at least after the night and morning at the hospital, where there had been loads of tears washing out blood and making it necessary to redress Blaine's right eye every couple of hours. He is still thankful for the nurses being nothing but helpful and caring with both of them.

"I will have to do _that_?" Mrs. Anderson looks positively horrified, and like the next one to potentially run to the nearest bathroom.

"Probably only five or six times until tomorrow morning. And then some more over the first days after the operation. You will get used to it very quickly," Kurt says turning his head to throw her a smile, then smiling much wider he looks back at Blaine, winks before placing a kiss to Blaine's forehead and then pushes himself to his feet, "All done."

As he walks back into the direction of the bathroom, supplies in hand, to put them away again, Mrs. Anderson asks, "Kurt?"

He stops dead at the strange, unfamiliar, slightly wavering tone he detects in her voice.

She is not a woman used to having to ask for anything, unsure how to go about it, it seems.

"Yes, Mrs. Anderson," Kurt says turning around to face her fully, thinking he knows what will come next.

Still he is taken by surprise when for the first time Kurt can remember, ever, his boyfriend's mother looks right at him.

Her eyes are hazel too. Kurt knew that much before.

Just like Blaine's.

Not at all like Blaine's, though.

Looking closely there are no specks of green, nothing to even so much as hint at the possibility of the vibrant spark that Kurt sees in Blaine's eyes with every smile, with every 'I love you'.

Mrs. Anderson's eyes, they are really more of a dull, dark brown, and Kurt cannot help but wonder what it would take to lighten them.

"I am certain you will want to be there for the last examinations in preparation of his surgery. They are scheduled for tomorrow morning. The doctor I spoke to on my drive here said they have to make sure that the swelling is really dying down enough to actually operate on Friday. I will be taking Blaine to the hospital directly from our place. I would gladly provide you with a bed for the night if you would want to come along. I really don't mind the trouble."

_Your trouble my ass, _Burt thinks, and really wants to say it, badly. Letting out a deep sigh instead he keeps his thoughts to himself, _I can't spoil this for Kurt and Blaine._

Kurt would be thinking pretty much the same thing, weren't his insides all too busy squealing in excitement, and his body's every muscle tense as he tries to focus, to keep control of his facial expressions, "This would be wonderful Mrs. Anderson. Thank you for the generous offer."

A dry, distant "Well," is all he gets in reply. Her eyes once again fixed just those few inches above Kurt's head.

Blain would be angry about this, like he has been every other time he has witnessed his mother talk down to his boyfriend, but today, pain-meds fully kicked in by now, he is just too damn tired and groggy.

Kurt notices him almost nodding off where he is still sitting on the couch.

"Baby," he is by Blaine's side again in a second, supplies discarded on the coffee table, "we need to get to your place first, then you can properly sleep."

"What is happening?" Mrs. Anderson asks.

Appearing next to Mrs. Anderson, Kurt's overnight bag in hand, Carole explains, "It's his medication, it can make him extremely groggy. This morning, watching him, I worried once or twice that he might pass out."

Kurt had packed the bag himself, much earlier in the day, before he had left for school. Knowing then already that in no way would he let Blaine just leave with a woman he had only ever experienced as cold and distant.

No matter how much Blaine would improve over the day, Kurt had known from the moment Blaine had gotten hurt the night before, that his mother would most definitely be nothing more than the provider of health insurance in the process of Blaine's recovery.

Carole is still working to keep up the act, "This is an overnight bag for you, Sweety. I packed Blaine's meds in here too. Let me just put in the supplies to redress his eye from the coffee table as well, and you are all set to go."

_GOSH, I love you Mom, _Kurt thinks and hopes it is showing in the look he gives her, and the hug he envelopes her in, as he gets up to take the bag from her hands with a "Thank you," that is meant for so much more.

xxxx

"Kurt, I expect calls at any hour if you need me," Burt insists, as he helps him and Blaine to Mrs. Anderson's car.

"Of course Dad," Kurt replies as he scoots into the backseat next to Blaine, who is instantly snuggling into Kurt's side.

"Take good care of each other," Carole says, waving goodbye, knowing this is just as hard on Kurt as it is on Blaine, hoping Kurt is strong enough, does not forget about himself completely. "And if you need us, just call, we can always come meet you at the hospital, any time," Carole insists.

"I love you," Kurt replies, looking between both his parents, feeling like it is the only thing that might possible be able to convey all the things he has no time or room to say in this moment with Mrs. Anderson right there.

And Burt could swear he just saw the woman roll her eyes at Kurt's open declaration of affection, _She's a piece of work._

"Feel better soon, Kid," Burt says to Blaine, as he reaches past Kurt and gently squeezes Blaine's right shoulder before he carefully closes the side door to the car.

When the car has disappeared into another street Burt and Carole turn and walk the pathway back towards the front door.

"She's something," Burt says.

"She's _something_ alright," Carole replies, sounding somewhat angry.

The next thing she knows she is pulled into a loving hug, "I'm so glad I found you, Carole."

"I'm glad you found me, too," she says with a wide smile, and pulling back locking their eyes adds, "Though technically I think it was Kurt who found me first."

xxxx

Wes has tried to think of something, anything, else. All his mind is willing to provide though are thoughts of Kurt and Blaine.

Wes's eyes keep drifting over to his phone lying on his desk right next to the book he is still trying, well by now, more pretending to try and read.

_I'll be damned if I miss his call, _Wes gets up from his chair.

_Why did I promise his father to wait for Kurt to call, or at least until tomorrow to try and call him myself, _Wes thinks pacing his room, phone clutched tight in his left hand. _Come on, Kurt. _

xxxx

Kurt does not even have to try and shake Mrs. Anderson.

As soon as they reach the house she disappears in her study, closing the door behind herself.

Kurt feels only relief at that. He is not too sure about Blaine though, he is suspiciously quiet.

His boyfriend leaning heavily onto Kurt, they make their way up to Blaine's bedroom.

The door has just about closed and Kurt placed his bag on the floor when from one moment to the other Kurt suddenly has both his arms full of Blaine, sobbing. Blaine's hands trying to find hold in the fabric of the clothing covering Kurt's back, slipping with ever tremble surging through Blaine's small frame wracked by his sobs.

No words are needed. _But sometimes_, Kurt finds, _they still can be of help._

So Kurt, making soothing sounds and never letting go, kicks of his footwear in a practiced motion, and leading Blaine gently over to the bed begins to talk, "I'm right here, Love. I know. I know Love. I want her to care too. It's okay. It's okay that you'll always want her to care. It's her loss. You are wonderful. It's her loss. I love you so much."

They stand for minutes next to the bed after that, Blaine clutching onto Kurt with all he has, Kurt keeping him close as Blaine's grip begins to loosen not because he wants it to, but because he is growing more exhausted by the minute. When the sobs finally die down Kurt eases his hold.

After guiding Blaine into a sitting position on the bed and gently coaxing Blaine's arms of himself Kurt kneels down in front of Blaine, whose legs are tangling of the bed.

Blaine, arms just hanging by his sides now, watches quietly, the occasional sniffles audible from him, as Kurt gently undoes his shoelaces and takes of first Blaine's right, then his left shoe.

Kurt looks up a Blaine, one hand on Blaine's left calf, gently tracing his fingertips up and down, offering Blaine a warm, loving smile, "I love you."

And Blaine is still so chocked up, he can only press his eye shut in concentration and nod several times.

Kurt hears the message laid open in this gesture loud and clear. And when after a moment of silence Blaine finally reopens his eye Kurt sees the pain in it so devastatingly clear and knows, _He needs more, more than words. Feeling. To feel. Love. Loved. _

Eyes locked, Kurt carefully pulls Blaine down onto his lap – sure that Blaine needs this, _truly needs this as much as the kiss we shared at the hospital last night_.

So Kurt scoots in closer, without hesitation, as Blaine's legs come to rest, bend, to the left and right of Kurt's upper thighs, Kurt still kneeling on the carpet. He moves in so close now that Blaine's back is pressed flush against the sideboard of Blaine's bed in the next moment.

Gazes still locked firmly Kurt's hands begin to roam over Blaine's upper thighs make their way to his ass, squeezing it briefly before both coming to rest somewhere along the lines of Blaine's lower ass and the back of hisupper thighs.

It is Blaine who draws the first soft, loving panting sounds from Kurt's mouth as he gently rolls his hips once, twice down into Kurt's.

Kurt begins to move with him, eyes over and over flickering from Blaine's gaze down to the pink lips softly parted. In this moment there is no sight Kurt can imagine desiring more.

It remains a slow loving grind, even as Kurt tenderly spreads his legs a little to get a better angle, grinding with more purpose.

Kurt had seen it in Blaine's face before pulling him into his lap, almost drowned out in the pain covering everything, the desperate need to forget for a moment what they both know he cannot let go off, not completely, not ever.

So here they are, breaths wracked, Blaine panting heavily, as he rests his left temple against Kurt's forehead, "Kurt, I…uhh, I…so…"

"Let go, Love," Kurt pants himself, "Just let go."

Blaine knows this is about so much more than making him come in his pants. They haven't done this in a while, well, not fully clothed. This is Kurt asking him to trust that they are close always, that they can be there for each other, make each other feel good and happy, no matter how much distance, how many layers of anything are between them.

Blaine holding on so tightly to Kurt's back now their chests are pressed as close together as they can possibly be in the position they are in, Blaine buries his head in Kurt's shoulder, breathes in nothing but Kurt's scent as he comes with a deep, growling groan.

And Kurt can feel all the tension leave his boyfriend's body, Blaine completely relaxed in his arms.

Blaine keeps grinding down as his orgasm washes through him, and in the next moment he can feel Kurt's whole body pulse under him with his orgasm, can hear Kurt pant and gasp directly in his right ear, Kurt's right cheek pressed against Blaine's seeking to be and stay as close as he can to Blaine, as he comes undone. They keep grinding slow and tender almost two minutes more, kissing deep during all of the latter.

As their lips part and they look at each other again, Blaine wonders aloud, "…if Burt messed up my dosage somehow, because there is not even a hint of pain right now."

Kurt is smiling, "Adrenaline maybe?"

"So, can we just forget about the painkillers and just keep having sex 24/7 for the next two weeks?"

"First of all we need to make some room for sleep in that callculation. Secondly, Gosh, I am a teenage boy, but I think even I could not promise that and deliver, besides without the painkillers to begin with I don't think we could have done this at all."

Blaine leans in for another kiss.

As lips separate again he asks, "But we can try some times in those two weeks?"

And there is that adorable pout again that Kurt loves so much, "Every day if it is up to me."

"I love you."

"I love you more," Kurt beams.

"Not poohhssible," it comes out with a yawn.

"Another reason we should probably go with the painkillers, at least on some days."

Blaine frowns in question.

"I don't want to wear you out, Love," Kurt says with a soft smile.

"Oh, don't, doohn't worhhry about thahhht." Blaine can barely bring out the sentence disrupted by yawns and Kurt has to chuckle.

"Let's clean up and lie down," Kurt says, getting up, not letting go of Blaine though. Blaine's legs wrap around Kurt's waist on instinct, arms close around shoulders, and Blaine pulls himself flush against Kurt's upper body, as he is carried off to the bathroom.

xxxx

They scoot into the middle of the bed together eighteen minutes later, Blaine's eye once again freshly dressed, Blaine himself in his favorite blue PJs, Kurt in a fresh set of clothes, one of the comfier of the half-dozen outfits he has taken to leaving at Blaine's place ever since he has started staying over more and more often in the last months. It seemed still too early for PJs, for him. He might have to face Blaine's mother again before the evening is plunged into the safety of the night hours, a time a healthy Kurt and Blaine love to spend awake together, so much, every chance they get.

Their limbs instantly wrap around each other in ways already comforting in their familiarity alone, Blaine lying on his left, Kurt on his right side.

They find quiet in each other's arms, the kind one does want to last forever.

Only two minutes later it is Kurt's phone that shocks them out of it.

* * *

><p>AN:

Spoilers for 3x14 beyond this point, just thought you should know

So I have been working on this after watching the latest episode of Glee and not being able to go back to sleep after. And I just had a horrible thought, Quinn's story line from here on out, the most important thing is going to be that Rachel feels guilty because she texted Quinn before the accident, because we all know, EVERYbloodyTHING needs to be about Rachel and Finn somehow.

Same thing last night, I hate that moment when Finn tells Rachel he would never try what Karofsky did. Prick! Seriously, like I thought he would, not even drama queen extraordinaire Rachel looked like she would think that, like ever. How does that stupid picture, obviously photo-shopped, compare again to Dave's pain? UGH! No, that seriously pisses me off.

Anyways, I needed to get that of my chest. Now that I have:

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. And I can promise you **Next Chapter: **_some Kurt, Blaine and Wes interaction_.

Yipee! Finally, some more Wes, I know, I miss him too. This chapter was really horribly void of Wes's awesomeness.


	5. You Do Not Lie To The Ones You Love

**A/N:**

Finally it is here, my newest chapter. Remember how I said my last was my longest ever, for anything?

Yeah, well, forget about that.

Now simply lean back and enjoy the ride. I think it is a little bumpy in the beginning, but it gets _sooo good_ later on, I promise. Maybe you love the beginning too? Let me know. I personally favor later parts.

As promised Wes, Kurt and Blaine have some actual interaction in here, and that particular feature will hopefully only get more each chapter from here on out. Fingers-crossed.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five: You Do Not Lie To The Ones You Love<strong>

* * *

><p>For a moment Kurt considers just letting it ring.<p>

But in mind that _It could be Carole or Burt_, and that no matter who it is in the end, _it wouldn't be fair to leave anyone hanging, worrying, not with all that has been happening, _it does not take more than two rings for Kurt to decide that he needs to answer his phone. It takes a while longer to actually do so though.

xxxx

"I'm so sorry, Baby," Kurt whispers, placing a kiss to Blaine's forehead, as he gently untangles them from each other.

Blaine does not move one inch on his own accord, so Kurt gently takes hold of one limb after another, and tries his best to place them on Blaine's bed in a comfortable position.

Blaine is still letting out soft noises of protest when Kurt gets up to grab his phone from where it has been placed, in plain sight, on Blaine's desk.

Kurt had had the suspicion earlier on, that he might need easy access to it at some point in the evening or night.

As Kurt turns back around, hoping Blaine will search out his eyes while they are physically apart, he instead finds Blaine curled up on himself completely - head buried in his arms, legs tucked to his chest, Blaine looks heartbreakingly tiny.

Kurt fears more than anything that it is how he feels too.

Blaine can feel fragile on his best of days, hiding usually behind a mask of anger. But that requires strength Blaine cannot master today. Left with only his body to shield him Blaine makes use of it, as best he can.

It takes a moment for Kurt to react. His mind taking him on a painful detour past and through the memories collected last night, kneeling on the cold, hard, dark ground of an empty parking garage, next to the boy he loves so much not holding himself unlike now.

Kurt wants to forget the red dye, looking so much like blood, stabbing at his mind then and now, as much as it had stung in Blaine's eyes.

The answer button has to wait as Kurt shaking himself out of his thoughts climbs back onto the bed, phone still ringing in his hand.

He lies down on his right and scoots as close as he can, opening his arms, wide, his left hand gently coming to rest against Blaine's right side, drawing his attention and waiting for Blaine to bury himself in his warmth.

There is a moment of hesitation before Blaine's head comes to rest against Kurt's upper right arm, resting on the bed, while Kurt switches the phone from his right ear to his left and, finally pressing the answer button, says, "Hello?", as they both slowly begin to relax back into each other's embrace, Blaine burying his face in Kurt's chest.

"Dude, is Blaine still at our place?"

"Hello to you, too, Finn. And no, he isn't. Neither am I for that matter."

"Oh," is Finn's only answer, then there is a slight commotion on the other end of the line, and what would sound distinctly like an argument did Finn get in any word at all against _Rachel? I thought he was at Puck's?_

Kurt has a feeling Finn has learned it by now, what Kurt himself had taken a while to realize.

After months and months of dating Rachel, Finn finally knows, it seems, that the best reaction to give Rachel, sometimes, is no reaction at all.

It is trying, always, to wait for Rachel to make her point, or better yet stop talking altogether. But the patience required can be achieved. Granted, hallucinogenic drugs would likely be of considerable help, but it can be done without. The result is a headache barely varying in degree either way.

Kurt is shaken from his thoughts a moment later.

"Hey Kurt. Finn says you are at Blaine's. I made something for him. I will bring it by in thirty. See you then."

Before Kurt has the chance to bring out so much as the 'But,' his sentence would surely have started with, Rachel has hung up on him.

Kurt leans back a little and places the phone on the nightstand next to the bed as he says, "Blaine, Love, Rachel and Finn are going to stop by."

Turning his head slightly and burying his face in his boyfriend's left shoulder Blaine lets out a muffled groan.

"My feelings exactly. But you know Rachel. The next days will be much quieter for the both of us, if we allow her fifteen minutes to see us today."

"Fifteen?" Blaine whines half-asleep.

"Ten?" Kurt tries to sound cheerful about it.

"Okay," Blaine lets out with a deep sigh.

They both know it will at least turn out to be twenty minutes in the end, and only if everything goes smoothly. Neither having any clue what this everything could possibly entail with Rachel involved.

If he were not on drugs Blaine would make Kurt bet on how often Barbra will be brought up. Today he does not, other thoughts on his mind.

"Can we stay like this some more, please?" Blaine's voice sounding watery and broken, the boy himself looking like he is feeling lost.

And Kurt is reminded of the ups and down the medicine has had Blaine feeling all day. One minute there being a smile on his face, the next seemingly never ending tears. Not that he has not had reasons to cry, more than enough.

"Of course we can. Rachel said half an hour, so she'll be here in twenty. So we have plenty of time."

Blaine shushes him, "Just hold me, please."

"Always."

xxxx

"Rachel, do you really think it is a good idea to…."

The glare Rachel shoots him has Finn rethink his approach.

"I mean, Kurt sounded tired. Shouldn't we give them…."

Rachel silences him once more, by simply holding up her right hand as she screws the soup container, standing before her on the kitchen counter, shut with her left – and in a surprisingly apt way for someone not left-handed.

If Kurt were here he would make a sarcastic comment about how well trained Finn is.

If Blaine were here he would have to bury himself in Kurt's embrace wholly, to hide how hard he would be laughing.

"It will be good for them to see someone else than each other all the time."

_But they hardly had a moment to themselves since the attack, what with all the doctors and the whole night spend at the hospital where anyone could walk in at any second_, Finn wants to say, but does not.

He has met Blaine's mother too.

That is if you can ever really meet the distant woman.

_She won't make this easier for them either_, Finn thinks looking sad.

While Finn is still trying to figure out how exactly to break all this to Rachel, and that not all parents are her dads, Rachel talks on.

"Besides, I won't allow for this soup to go to waste. I sacrificed my daily read of ten pages of Barbra related material to make this."

Finn is about to point out that she could catch up on that now instead of keeping Kurt and Blaine awake, after all it is almost eight already and there is no way they have had enough rest in the short time since the attack.

Rachel's keen expression though when Finn finds her eyes says it all. And Finn realizes he is just making this hard on himself.

"Okay, Rachel, let's go. If it gets much later Blaine's mother might not let us in anymore."

"Oh. How do you know?"

"Overheard Blaine and Kurt talking in our living room when I came home from football practice one day a little earlier than usual," Finn answers already ushering Rachel towards the front door.

xxxx

Blaine is terribly tired.

He does not really take in any of the magazine article Kurt is currently reading to him - as much in an effort to keep himself awake as Blaine.

They are waiting, for Rachel to storm in, Finn to probably trod in slightly behind her.

Kurt is just done with rushing through the article, hoping the next he picks, too at random, will be something better suited to shock some life back into the both of them, when the bedroom door opens, revealing Rachel and Finn.

Blaine - too polite to say anything about how tired he really is, and simply send the two of them away again after pleasantries have been exchanged - uses the moment to properly congratulate Kurt on his spot as a NYADA finalist.

He completely misses the saddened – or on Kurt's part rather concerned – look exchanged between Rachel and Kurt as he fills the glasses, with the drink originally meant for Kurt and himself alone, way back when there had been no eye injury at all.

No one could have known for sure Kurt would make it, but that had never been reason enough for Blaine to not be prepared ever since Kurt had told him the chatrooms had started talking about the first letters having been send out.

xxxx

Blaine is smiling, happy, more than anything, about the steadying, reassuring feeling of Kurt's hand in his as he tries once again to focus on his visitors.

"You guys, I'm really upset that I'm missing Michael week. It just totally sucks."

It really is not the worst thing in the world to have those three people, who care about him, sing to him in response to this off-hand remark.

xxxx

Finn and Rachel leave after almost forty minutes, when Blaine simply cannot keep his eyes open anymore and almost hits his head on the headboard dozing off. But Kurt is there in time, moving to sit on the bed, taking Blaine into his arms and guiding Blaine's left cheek to rest against his left shoulder.

Gently running a hand over Blaine's curls he turns his head to face Rachel and Finn, and looking between them says in no more than a whisper, "I see you at school. Thank you for stopping by."

"Bye," Rachel whispers back, as she gets up and walks over to the door, Finn following behind waving his goodbye to them.

xxxx

Kurt sits holding Blaine like this for some more minutes. The room settling into a calming quiet around them.

His insides twist when there is a knock on the door, and Blaine – his breathing just having evened out in his state of half-sleep – stirs in his arms and forces his eyes back open at the sound.

Blaine's mother does not wait for a reply from the occupants of the room, instead just flings the door open and steps in.

Kurt briefly wonders if that is her version of parental care, it feels more like control, and blatant disrespect for her son's privacy.

"I just received a call from the doctor who will be operating on you. He wants to move the surgery to tomorrow." And Kurt feels Blaine tense in his arms at this announcement. "Well, I asked him to. The earlier this is done and over with the better. He said from the way the swelling had gone down over night already it should be just fine. I just thought you should know. Kurt, you know where the guestroom is."

_Yeah, sure, like I am going there anytime soon. Like you are going to check on Blaine tonight, or on where I am for that matter, _Kurt thinks, reassuringly tightening his embrace, _I am not going anywhere tonight, Love, don't worry, please don't_.

Even in the safety of Kurt's arms it takes a moment for Blaine to let go of the tension again.

As Blaine's mother talks on, Kurt is more grateful than ever before, that loving touches can never be drowned out by words.

Blaine's mother seems an expert at suffocating every alive and loving thought. And Kurt would be surprised if anyone could even so much as hear themselves think while having to listen to her.

_That woman's voice_, Kurt thinks annoyed, _it has to be the explanation why Blaine never asked for that puppy,_ the one Kurt has learned Blaine had always wanted so much as a small child, still does.

_Something alive and warm_, Kurt thinks sadly how much he too would have missed that, having to live in this house, how much he missed it in his own in those years that he feared rejection from his own father. But even then Burt had still been so much more caring in the everyday meetings two people living together can never avoid than Blaine's mother could probably ever be.

"And I am flying to Seattle for business tomorrow. You will be fine on your own Blaine."

It feels like an order, not like a question, certainly not an inquiry or request for permission. She does not even pretend to wait for a reply of any kind, and completely ignores Blaine's shocked and hurt, and Kurt's outraged and angry expression.

Kurt had thought before he could really not dislike the woman any more, _She cannot really not care at all! She can't! _

Her next words show Kurt how wrong he can be.

"I already inquired with the hospital, you can stay there for a whole week. So your eye and you will be taken care of. It does not even cost as terribly much to have them keep you as I thought it might."

Kurt really wants to scream at her now, but holding Blaine he can feel the devastation and hurt cursing through Blaine, his breathing terribly shallow and labored. Blaine needs him to stay calm, rational.

Blaine's every muscle feels tense. Kurt cannot begin to imagine how deep the pain is cutting into the core of the gentle creature in his arms.

Nothing feels anything but heartbreakingly wrong.

Kurt's warmth to retreat into in this dark frost surrounding them - filling every single inch of the room, this house - is the only thing that keeps Blaine from collapsing into a sobbing mess.

After taking a deep breath, trying, reaching for focus in between all his twisted, jumbled thoughts, Kurt says, "I talked to my father earlier today. He made it clear that it would be no trouble at all to have Blaine stay at our place." _LIE! _Kurt's insides are practically trying to scream his resolve down.

Kurt cares but fights to ignore his instincts, particularly the one that has gotten him into trouble with bullies all his life, the one to tell the truth, no matter what.

Burt does not endorse lying, Kurt knows.

But Kurt is sure, too, that his dad would be all for Kurt thinking on his feet like this right now, given the circumstances - even surer how much his dad wants for Blaine to be and to feel loved and safe.

So Kurt talks on, lies on. Sometimes being completely honest is risking too much harm coming to someone you love to be worth it.

You don't lie to the ones you love, that has been Kurt's goal for himself for quite some time now, luckily he feels nothing remotely related to warmth towards the woman standing in his boyfriend's room.

"The guestroom is free, and we are not expecting anyone to visit in the next weeks."

Kurt knows she won't allow this simply out of the goodness of her heart so he adds, "It won't cost you anything this way."

What other parents might take offence at being told makes her smile almost happily.

Kurt cannot remember a single time the woman has ever looked truly happy to him, though, and wonders if Blaine ever knew happiness before Dalton, before the Warblers.

Kurt shudders at the thought that Sebastian has taken so much more from Blaine last night than the use of a healthy eye, for several weeks.

Waiting for her reply, hoping, Kurt concentrates alone on not ever letting go of Blaine, not letting his hold slack at any moment, fearing what it might do to Blaine.

Blaine is so quiet, Kurt grows more and more scared by the minute, then he remembers Blaine's words, spoken one night when they had lain together, wrapped in each other's arms in the safety of Kurt's home, "She does not appreciate the display of affection. She thinks it shows weakness."

It is more Carole less his own mother Blaine thinks about, buried in Kurt's embrace, waiting for this to be over, having learned as a small child already, there is nothing else he can do but keep down his head and take whatever comes. _Carole cares about me, she loves me. More than my own mother ever has. _And Blaine finds himself wishing he could hate her, just so he would not have to care anymore, hurt anymore.

But wishing is wishing and…Blaine is Blaine.

And Blaine being Blaine, even after all this, cannot bring himself to let go of the hope that one day she might actually care. Blaine, even after today, cannot deny the truth that he is nevertheless still full of love, even for her.

And the thoughts rampaging in his mind are all too clear, and sharp. _Love should not hurt like this. Loving you should not hurt me._

It is something he has been feeling for a long time but Blaine only really learned to understand after meeting Kurt.

xxxx

Chasing Jeremiah for that short period of time, had not been about the boy itself at all, but about trying to make someone who quite obviously did not, love him. About winning that fight with uncertainty…and doubt. About trying to proof to himself that yes, he Blaine Anderson could make someone love him.

Of course in the weeks after the GAP fiasco Blaine had come to realize, thanks to Kurt, that he himself had been blind to love, unable to see, to recognize the thing so unfamiliar at the time.

Letting Kurt in more and more had slowly changed everything. Being accepted, welcomed into the family by Carole and Burt even more so.

xxxx

Blaine wonders if unanswered love always feels like this, has always felt like this, and maybe he had simply forgotten to remember, until tonight.

Boarding at Dalton, finding first Wes, then…Kurt finding him, this pain had been surprisingly easy to at least not consider.

In these moments, these minutes, Blaine can think of nothing else, can feel nothing else, his whole body running cold with ache.

No matter how much Kurt loves him, sometimes the thought still takes hold of him, takes over all of him, it is the worst feeling Blaine can remember, _How can anyone ever love me if Mommy can't?_

The thought is a ghost, twelve years old, so is the feeling haunting Blaine – too old to feel truly familiar, too familiar to not be felt at all. With Kurt's help, with Kurt's love, Blaine will make sure his children, their children, hopefully, will never have to doubt love like this, fear like this that love might not be real.

Only how much Blaine is in shock at all this old dark being stirred in him will ever suffice to explain why Blaine is not dissolved in tears yet.

He suppresses the whimper pounding in his throat, reaching across his tongue, for his lips to be let out, to make itself heard, as he hears his mother's emotionless consent given to Kurt's request.

xxxx

"Fine. If your father already agreed. I will drop the two of you off at the hospital tomorrow morning on my way to the airport. The operation is scheduled for 10am, I will drop you off early, around eight, otherwise I might miss my flight. Be ready to leave at 7:20am."

She is already turning to go when Kurt stops her, "Mrs. Anderson?"

"Yes?"

"Would you fill out a consent form that allows my parents and I to be with Blaine throughout all of the time he spends at the hospital tomorrow?"

"Is there such a thing?"

"I saw it on the hospital website. I can print it out right now and tick the boxes for you. You will only have to sign it. Nothing more."

"If you get it to me straight away, I can do that."

"Thank you," Kurt says, swallowing all else; his voice distant as he adds, "I will stop by your study in ten minutes then."

"If you insist," she says, already pulling the door shut behind her.

Blaine, still frozen in his spot, instantly misses Kurt's touch, his warmth, grounding his emotions, preventing his inner tremor to take over all of his body, as Kurt jumps up and hurries over to Blaine's desk.

Blaine expects him to start up the laptop. He is taken by surprise when he finds Kurt kneeling down on the floor and rummaging through his overnight bag lying there instead.

"Baby?"

"Yes, Blaine?"

"Didn't you want to print out the form?"

"Actually…no," Kurt says turning back around to face Blaine, a smile on Kurt's lips that slides as soon as he sees Blaine's worried and devastated expression, "Oh, no, Love, no. Not what I meant. I want you with me so bad. Don't ever doubt that, please," Kurt is saying while already climbing back onto the bed and pulling the boy looking so close to tears deep into his arms.

"I guess we are not the only ones who have trust issues when it comes to your mother," Kurt says, scooting back a little and holding up a folder, Blaine had not noticed Kurt must have taken from the overnight bag.

Kurt, opening the folder, goes on with a soft smile, "Carole is so going to get flowers from me once a week for the next two months _at least_. She already printed out the consent form, even ticked the boxes too."

Kurt had been waiting and the tears finally arrive. Flow thickly from Blaine's left eye as he says, "My mother is practically a stranger to her and even she knew my mother would drop me the first chance she gets. One way or another."

"I would never leave you at that hospital alone. Never. Not for a day, not a single hour. And for the record," Kurt says softly, gently wiping away Blaine's tears, "I don't think anyone understands or knows your mother." Kurt's voice turns softer still with the next sentence, "And you know that is not why Carole did it."

Blaine's mind feels too messed up to find any thought he might be looking for right now, so he has to ask for the comfort of Kurt spelling it out for him, "It isn't?"

Kurt shakes his head, smiling at Blaine softly in reassurance, "I know she did not waste one thought on your mother while smuggling that form into my bag. It's about you, it's for you. Loving me means you will always have to put up with Dad and Carole loving _you_. Deal with it."

It is a chocked breathless laugh Kurt receives from Blaine for that blunt remark, but unmistakably a laugh.

And Kurt takes it gladly. "Carole wants to know you are cared for, and safe. She told me before I left for school today, that if it was up to her, you'd stay with us until you are all healed up, and beyond that…if you want to."

"She really said that?"

"More than once."

"I do," Blaine says, eye still glistening with tears, but the rest of his face lit with real happiness.

"Different conversation," Kurt says with a warm smile, cupping Blaine's left cheek, thumb tracing softly along the skin.

Blaine smiling back leans closer.

His lips brushing against Kurt's as he says, "Different question, yes - Same answer though, for me."

Kurt's hitching breath is caught up in the kiss that neither will remember who started when they part.

It is this kiss that Blaine will do his best to recall the whole of the next morning whenever he gets separated from Kurt by hospital staff.

xxxx

It is hard leaving Blaine alone, nerve wracking really.

But it is a relief, Kurt was in desperate need of, to be back on his way to Blaine with the hospital consent form signed by Blaine's mother.

Kurt stops at the opposite end of the hallway leading to Blaine's room, and takes out his phone, glad that it has become a reflex for him to pocket it whenever he so much as briefly leaves a place, any place. Even if it is only one room to step into another fairly close by.

He gets an answer at the third ring, "Hummel."

"Dad."

"Kurt, are you okay? Is Blaine okay?"

"I…yeah, alright I guess, both of us. I have to make it quick though."

"Shoot."

"Thank you. Blaine needs a place to stay after surgery."

"Done." Burt can hear it in his son's voice without having to ask so simply says, "There is more, Kiddo. Go ahead, tell me."

"Yeah," Kurt answers with a soft smile, when did his father learn to read his voice so well? _Maybe I have my perfect pitch from Dad after all_. "The surgery is tomorrow, now. At 10am. His mother is leaving for business again, and wants to drop us off at the hospital at 8am, because she needs to get her flight."

"Carole and I will pick you up at the hospital and take you to get some breakfast, sound good? Blaine is allowed to eat, right?"

"Yes, from what I have read, yes he is. He might be too nervous to actually eat anything though. But getting to spend some time with you, Dad, and Carole, will do us both some good. A lot, really."

Kurt hears Carol's voice in the background before he hears an answer from his dad, and smiling thinks, _Of course she is right there with him_.

"Carole is asking about a consent form?"

"Yes, Blaine's mother singed it. Tell Carole thank you _so much_ for putting it in my bag. And thank you, Dad. I love you. Can you…Can you stay with me tomorrow at the hospital?"

"Of course. Carole wants to come and stay too. We love you, Kiddo. See you at eight."

"Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, Son. Give my love to Blaine," Burt says and a second later he hears Carole's voice in the background louder than before, "And mine."

"I will, thank you Dad, Carole. I love you both so much, see you tomorrow."

xxxx

Blaine has been alone only a couple of minutes when Kurt comes back into the room.

With Kurt and Mrs. Anderson having literally nothing to say to each other he had been on his way back to Blaine in under three minutes.

The call home had not taken long either, but as Kurt closes the door behind him and takes the first steps into the room he finds Blaine curled up on himself in the fetal position, looking small and hurt.

Lying under the red and black checkered blanket Blaine is facing away from the door.

Kurt hears the sniffles as he takes the last steps towards the bed. After taking off his blazer and belt - so the buckle won't press Blaine uncomfortably into the back, when he holds Blaine almost too close, as he almost always ends up doing - Kurt crawls unto the bed.

Scooting up behind Blaine and gently offering his warmth, both arms wrapping around Blaine, Blaine takes hold of them, hugging himself tightly with both their arms before Kurt even gets the chance to tighten his hold himself.

Minutes full of heavy tears pass before Kurt says, "Your mothe…,"

"No," Blaine interrupts Kurt. "Surgery."

xxxx

While Kurt hadn't been there with him to comfort, to focus on, the reality had sunk in, _Tomorrow. _And all the ugly what ifs had reared their heads.

"I'm scared too, but I will be right there with you, every step of the way," _Not like this morning, _Kurt quietly adds to himself alone, not wanting to steer more pain and misery in his boyfriend's mind.

Blaine replies by lifting Kurt's right hand up to his lips and placing a kiss into the soft skin of Kurt's palm.

It is an 'I love you' spoken with more than words, and Kurt's reply in holding Blaine tight until he falls asleep, and beyond, is loud and clear to Blaine, easing Blaine into sleep he had not thought he could find today.

xxxx

Kurt does not once loosen his hold on Blaine until he feels Blaine's breathing truly even out, Blaine's grip on his arms shifting slightly and finally…easing.

After tugging Blaine safely under the covers of his bed, and placing the red and black blanket on the armchair next to it, Kurt himself moves to sit to Blaine's right, back against the headboard.

One hand tenderly travelling up and down Blaine's right arm over and over - easily accessible now that Blaine, no longer wrapped in Kurt's arms, has shifted onto his back in his sleep - Kurt lets out a heavy sigh. "Everything will turn out okay. Everything. I got you, Love. I got you."

The next twenty minutes he glances over at Blaine, again and again, while flipping through the magazine he had in hand earlier, now resting on his knees, never allowing his left hand to stray from Blaine's right arm.

With Blaine on his mind, the whole magazine, every single page Kurt turns, looks like nothing more than a blur of colors and letters to him.

Kurt knows the bandaging cannot be left like this over night, drenched in tears, mostly. But he does not have the heart to risk waking Blaine, so decides to try and stay awake at least another hour and then change it before turning in himself. Hopeful that Blaine will be so fast asleep by then, that he won't wake him while changing the bandage.

xxxx

Kurt eventually, still flipping through the pages, eyes always more on Blaine than the magazine itself, finds a picture that expertly draws his minds focus by means of its exquisite hideousness – too something that needs to be achieved. _Not everyone has this in them._

_Blaine's mother does, _Kurt thinks bitterly while almost glaring at the picture in the way he wishes he could look at her every time she opens her mouth.

He has decided a long time ago, that it isn't worth risking being kept apart from Blaine.

A power the mostly absent woman regrettably still would have, did she ever decide to put it to use.

_No, not worth that risk, not ever._

It does not help Kurt's opinion of the picture either that Kurt has never understood the particular appeal of this trend that never seems to die.

M_aybe if it were guys in school uniforms?_

So at the end of the day, quite literally, it is the picture of some trashy pop star in a schoolgirl uniform that has him finally remember… "Wes!"

xxxx

It is quickly approaching ten in Lima, and Wes knows he should do it right now.

_Ring Kurt now or…or forget about it until tomorrow. Yeah, like that is an option, _Wes thinks, nervously twirling his phone in his hands, while sitting on the edge of his bed.

He almost drops it as it lights up, rings and vibrates all at once.

Wes had put on all the alarms, hours ago, just to make sure.

He does not bother to look at the caller ID, at worst it holds disappointment, at best four letters he has spend hours hoping to see across the small screen.

"Wes Montg…," he is cut off even before he gets out his full name, and for once Wes really appreciates it.

"Wes. I am _so sorry_. I meant to call earlier, but stuff just kept happening, and…" Kurt's voice sounds strangely hushed for the urgency it carries.

"Kurt." The name comes out in a sigh of relief. "Kurt, it's fine. I mean, I was so worried and all, but I get it, of course I do." And having Kurt on the other line Wes can finally swallow down at least part of the anxiety having build in him all day. "I have to ask, why are you half-whispering?"

"Blaine is lying right next to me, asleep."

"Oh sure, yeah. Of course."

"I don't want to leave him alone in the room, he had a hard time falling asleep. You know that feeling when you are too exhausted to sleep? I think it was that."

"Yes."

Wes's answer is short and simple, and Kurt appreciates it so much, knowing, as soon as he hears it, Wes is trying to give both of them a moment to just breathe and process…that they are actually talking to each other, finally.

It gives them a moment, too, to think about what they want to say to each other, now that they can. There is so much on both their minds though, it isn't easy.

Wes hears a familiar sound of somewhat labored breathing in the background as they are still, both, trying to capture a thought and form it on their tongues.

"Blaine is still somewhat of a snorer I hear."

"Yes," Kurt replies with a smile that Wes can hear in his voice, that carries into the next sentence, "I thought he had always roomed alone at Dalton?"

"He did, we…we just…had many movie nights," Kurt is sure, or so he tells himself, he just imagined the hesitation in Wes's voice, "Like when you where with us there. And we fell asleep more than once. Always _someone _insisting on just one more movie."

"And by someone you mean Blaine," Kurt says, left hand softly tracing over Blaine's curls, all doubt already forgotten again.

"And by someone I mean Blaine," Wes confirms with a smile of his own. "How is he?"

"Tired, almost all the time. I think it's the meds, he isn't too fond of them. Other than that…scared," there is a slight tremor to Kurt's voice.

"Of the surgery?"

"Yes, how do you…how can you know that? You haven't even talked to him, since the attack!" Kurt replies.

_Not that attack, no, _Wes thinks to himself, forehead lying in a frown. "How much, um,…how much…,"

This time there is no way Kurt can talk himself out of hearing Wes ring for words in a way he has never heard the usually so eloquent ex-Warbler before.

"…how much do you know about…Sadie Hawkins?" Wes eventually brings himself to ask.

"He told me about the recovery, not so much about the attack itself."

"Okay, yes,…. That makes sense," Wes says more to himself than Kurt.

"What do you mean? Why?"

"He…You can't know this if he did not give you details about the attack…."

"Can't know what? Wes, please!" Kurt asks sounding almost frantic.

"I think he is scared of surgery…because of the narcotics," Wes finishes.

And, _Okay, I can deal with that, _Kurt thinks, "I didn't know that. I mean…. He wanted me really close at the hospital last night, and fought to stay awake as long as possible. And then he slept really bad until I held him really tight. Is that about the attack too?"

Wes just nods, then realizes that is no good on the phone, no good at all, "Yes. I think so."

"But why? What…," Kurt swallows hard, tears pricking at his eyes, fear pushing them to the surface, "What happened that I don't know?"

"He blacked out from the pain, during the attack," Wes if he intended to say more is cut off by a gasp from Kurt.

"I wish I'd known," Kurt says letting out a small sob.

"Kurt, I'm sure you already did everything you could. Knowing this might explain some things but it really does not change all that much."

"But I should have known." Another sob. "He has always had this unease about the dark. I should have known it was more than…than just that itself. With Blaine everything comes from somewhere, everything has a reason."

Kurt's voice is so full of pain, Wes thinks it is best to leave the subject for now - then curses under his breath, because he has really nowhere happy to take this conversation.

"Wes? Did _you _just swear?" Kurt asks incredulous, eyes wide.

"Well, yeah. That is what college does to people, haven't you heard?"

"Alright," Kurt replies somewhat irritated but really more amused now.

Wes sighs, "No, I just, I really wish we had something happy to talk about, but all I can think to talk about is what happened to you both. Jeff called me, and…."

"Jeff, yes, that figures."

"Why?"

"Brittany told me in Glee today that she saw a sad and confused looking blond bear cup trod away, with his head hanging, after Blaine got attacked."

"I can't even pretend to understand the bear part, but Jeff certainly sounded confused last night. He has no idea that it was not a regular slushy at all. At least he did not last night. You know what a terribly bad liar he is. I would have known right away. No, Jeff really had no idea."

"Yeah I know. And thank you. Hearing this from you, someone Blaine and I both still trust so very much, is more comforting than I thought it would be."

Kurt sounds sad.

Wes can tell there is more Kurt wants to say, but he must be unsure how to, so Wes tries his best to assure, "You can always tell me what's on your mind. I might be able to help if you tell me. Only if you want to tell me at all, of course, that is."

Kurt takes a deep breath before he answers, "I'm really scared of what will happen in Blaine's mind when he is no longer preoccupied with the physical pain."

"I know what you mean," is Wes's instant reply, "and I hope you and I can figure out what is going on with our old Glee club when I come to Lima. That will hopefully make things easier once Blaine has healed physically. And I really want to see you guys, so don't try to stop me."

"I would not _dream_ of it. We miss you too," Kurt says, and Wes is ecstatic to hear the soft, gentle tone again, he is so used to hearing when Kurt speaks.

"When will you be here exactly?" Kurt asks, happiness and excitement beginning to show in his voice.

Wes is about to answer, "Tomorrow afternoon, around…," when he hears the rustling of covers, a sharp intake of air, followed by a gasp from Kurt.

xxxx

Wes fears more than anything that he is exactly right about what is happening much too far away.

"Kurt. Kurt….KURT!" _He must have tossed the phone aside_.

So Wes tries again, in the hope that Kurt will remember soon that he is still on the line. "KURT, please, pick up, PICK UP THE PHONE. KURT!"

"Yes…Wes…I can't talk anymore, Blaine, he…"

"He is having a panic attack, right? Bolted up in his sleep, panting like crazy right now, and shaking even worse?"

"Yes," Kurt's own voice trembling in a way Wes has not heard it since the first day they met, sitting around that table at Dalton with coffees in their hands, when Blaine had asked him and David to step away.

Wes wishes with all he has he could simply step closer now. And for a second he wishes he hadn't skipped a grade when he was nine, then he would still have been there, with the Warblers at Dalton, and none of this would ever have been at all.

As it is, none of this is reality - and it is reality that needs dealing with right now.

So Wes, getting up from his bed, shakes himself out of his thoughts and starts pacing his room as he begins to speak, "Okay, here is what you do: You ease him back down into a lying position. You might have to lay down with him, on top of him, if nothing else works. The weight is comforting to him. Then when he has calmed a little you sit down right next to him and take his hands both in one of yours, and press your other hand into the middle of his chest. It has to be on his bare skin. You can sneak your hand under his shirt or take it off, both works, used to at least. It is you, so the more body contact the better I assume. I tried to not overstep any potential boundaries. But it is you and him, so you will know what to do."

"Wes, how…?"

"Kurt, please, trust me, just do it, now. He needs someone to hold him. Right now! More than anything. And when he can breathe again on his own he will need someone to hold on to, that is why you need to take his hands, you will know he is better when he begins to squeeze back. It was always our signal. And the pressure on his chest will ease his breathing. I know it might sound strange, but I know for Blaine it works."

"Okay," Kurt replies weakly.

Then Kurt is gone and Wes waits, patiently, on the other end of the line.

The torn shreds of sobs and crying traveling to his ears through the phone have his heart clench and his mind buzz with memories stored away deep before tonight.

Eventually, almost ten minutes later, that felt much, much longer to Wes, torturously dragging out, Kurt picks the phone up again.

"Thank you."

"Always," is Wes's sole reply. And not only because it is what he knows Kurt needs to hear, even though this could not be truer in this moment.

"How did you know what to do?" Kurt asks still sounding shaken.

"He isn't asleep again. Is he?"

"Almost," Kurt tries to sound assuring to Wes, who _must be feeling more horrible than I do right now, _Kurt thinks, _more helpless, being so far away._

"You need to be right there with him when he falls asleep, or the night is going to be really bad."

"I'm right with him Wes, we are holding hands as we speak. He squeezed back, just as you said."

"That is not enough, Kurt. Not tonight. We can talk tomorrow. All that matters right now is that Blaine gets better. Can I talk to him for one moment?"

"Yes. Sure," is the last Wes hears from Kurt.

xxxx

There had been nights in their time at Dalton when Blaine had not been able to speak at all after waking from a nightmare like this, so the weak, "Hey, Wes," he is greeted with has Wes smiling and wanting to cry at the same time.

Eyes not even really wet yet Wes is already wiping at them with his free hand, trying to keep the pain stabbing at him from his insides, uncovered with the memories, out of his voice.

"Blaine, heeyyy. Try to rest, okay? I will see you tomorrow, I just wanted you to hear that from me. I will be with you tomorrow."

"Thank you," Blaine sobs weakly, "I need you."

"I need you too. You know that, right? I love you."

"I love you too, Wes," Blaine replies, clearly in tears.

"See you tomorrow, I promise, I love you," Wes manages to keep his voice steady as the first tears role down his cheeks - all efforts to wipe them away now forgotten, his free hand fisted into his sweatpants.

Wes knows he is back with Kurt when he hears, "Lucky for you I'm not the jealous type," the failed attempt at a joking tone has Wes frowning sadly. Blaine's broken voice still fresh in his ears, Wes's tears are still coming.

"I….Can you put on your poker face for a minute or two? You need to know this, and I need Blaine not to worry tonight that I am telling you. Remember he thought it was over, that is the only reason he has never told you himself before."

"Okay," Kurt tries to sound certain.

"Okay. So Here the essentials: Blaine just woke up from an especially horrible nightmare. He used to get those a lot when he first came to Dalton. It took me months to figure out what was going on, but there were days he just looked incredibly pale in the morning and he never ate anything, like he was afraid he would throw it right back up at the table. The point I am trying to make… one night, about two months after he transferred, we both fell asleep watching movies together and that was when I witnessed one of those attacks for the first time. It took time, but together Blaine and I figured out what helps. I need you to not be angry with me about what I tell you next. There was never anything sexual about it. I swear."

"I'd never be angry about you being there for him," Kurt assures.

"Ever since you met and especially after you transferred to Dalton they hardly ever happened. Ever since you two got together he has not had a single attack. We have always tried to talk about what is happening in his life, to try and ward new attacks of. I was not really there for him all that much the last weeks, I am so sorry about that. And then all this happened so out of the blue…worse than the Sadie Hawkins attack in that respect. He had expected they might try something back then, but this," Wes stops himself, taking a deep breath before he continues, "It must be the stress…"

"…the memories…"

"Yes, Kurt, the memories. Flashbacks. Did he have any of those?"

It is a whisper, "Last night. Yes."

"Damn, that is bad. Okay, Kurt, here is what you do tonight, you take care to dress both of you in really light clothing, he needs to feel your body warmth as much as possible, and you rest first your hand flat over his chest, like you did before, on his bare skin, remember that. The most important thing is to make sure he falls asleep with your head resting on his chest. Something about the pressure right there and your presence all night, it might not take away all the fears, but it will give him much better chances to not have another panic attack in the night and get some actual sleep."

"Thank you, Wes."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wes?"

"Not just for tonight though, thank you," Kurt says, trying to soften his tone. It is hard with all of his mind so preoccupied.

"I know. Try to get some sleep too, Kurt. Promise!"

"You sound just like my dad did at the hospital."

"Good. If you are at Blaine's you need someone to give you parental warmth."

"Yes, true."

"Blaine needs you. Just don't let him forget you are right there with him all night and it will be okay. I'll be with you tomorrow afternoon. I'll call you again before I get there," Wes rushes the words.

"Thank you, Wes. Talk to you tomorrow. Bye."

"Bye, Kurt."

xxxx

To Wes it is an honor and a painful stab to his core, at the same time, when Kurt compares him to his father.

He has met the man only three times. Well, more seen him, in the passing, while visiting Blaine and Kurt at Kurt's home.

But seeing Kurt, and more so, seeing Blaine interact with the man, so warmly – after having seen Blaine with his own parents, in a careful dance of avoidance more than actual meeting – tells him how much it really means to be compared to Burt by Kurt.

The pain it makes Wes feel comes from agonizing over the parental role he always had assumed he had played rather well in the Warblers, _But apparently not so much. How else could they change like this so quickly. Clearly I have failed them. Failed myself. And then I did not even make time to call Blaine the last weeks._

The rest of the day and far too deep into the night Wes keeps mining his brain for the how, _How did all this happen? _Coming up empty every time. But then again, no one has explained to him about Sebastian Smythe yet.

xxxx

Blaine keeps stirring, letting out small whimpers, as Kurt has to move away for a moment to change into boxers and a shirt as Wes suggested, and to get some fresh, light clothing out for Blaine too.

"Love, you'll have to work with me here, okay?"

Blaine nods, sniffling still, even though the tears have stopped coming altogether while Kurt had been on the phone with Wes again.

It takes some time to peal the now sweat drenched and tear stained clothes of Blaine.

Blaine is already wearing fresh boxers and Kurt is about to help him into a plain white singlet when a red drop hits Blaine's chest, another his boxers.

"KURT!" It is a cry of horror, followed by a sob.

Kurt remembering Wes's advice places his hand on Blaine's thankfully already bare chest, hoping it will help, "It's alright, Love. Just breathe, breathe with me, come on. It's your bandage, we had forgotten to change it earlier after you last cried. It's okay."

Kurt, tilting his head to catch Blaine's eye, sees the panic in it, as Blaine cannot bring himself to look away from more red drops hitting him and his clothes.

"Blaine, Love, just close your eye for me, please just close it and concentrate on my touch. Please, try for me."

But Blaine's breathing is beginning to stutter now, Kurt can feel it under his right hand on Blaine's chest, and he cannot seem to tear his attention away from the red, not on his own.

"Kurt. Help," it is a desperate sob, and the new tears make the drops fall even faster.

Kurt moves both his hands to take Blaine's, unable to watch him fall apart like this any longer, and leans in, capturing Blaine's lips in a messy kiss. Turning it deep instantly to draw all of Blaine's attention. Hoping the kiss won't cause him physical pain. Doubting any amount of physical pain could match the emotional torture Blaine seems to feel already.

Kurt keeps kissing him, _Please, Love, focus on the kiss_.

Kurt does not know how long it has been when Blaine finally responds, and kisses back.

He is utterly out of breath when they break apart, and he only does so after Blaine squeezes his hands back. Trusting Wes completely it is the right thing to do to make sure.

"You scared me," Kurt whispers, he the one unable to make eye-contact this time.

"I scared me too," Blaine whispers back waiting for Kurt to look back up at him.

They are watery, pain-filled smiles on both faces as their gazes meet again.

Kurt swallows hard as he takes in Blaine's blood spattered look.

Squeezing Blaine's hands one more time in reassurance Kurt lets go of one of them, using his hold on the other to get Blaine, with a light tug to come with him to the bathroom.

xxxx

Kurt takes care to have Blaine face away from the bathroom mirror while he first redresses his eye, getting even more blood on Blaine's face and chest for a moment, then cleans all of the blood and tears smeared by now, some off his own arms, away.

"All done," Kurt says, gently coaxing Blaine to turn to the mirror, with a light touch on Blaine's hips.

Eyes meeting in the mirror Kurt places a kiss to Blaine's left shoulder before he says, "Wait one moment, I get you the singlet and some other boxers too. Those weren't my favorites on you anyway," Kurt even dares to attempt a smile. It goes alright. Not brilliant. But brilliant is a high order today.

As Kurt is about to turn and leave Blaine stops him, gently placing his right hand on Kurt's left forearm, "Wait."

"Yes?"

"Can we…sleep without shirts tonight? I…I need…."

Kurt takes the one step back to Blaine, who swallows hard.

Standing right in front of him, Kurt gently cups Blaine's left cheek with his right hand.

Blaine instantly leans into Kurt's gentle touch, and his eye closes only a second later.

Finding Blaine's features still marked gravely by agony, tears are stirred and silently mix into the blue of Kurt's eyes. Warding off their fall for a minute more Kurt hums softly, "I need you too," as he leans in and gently brushes his lips against Blaine's.

xxxx

It is the quiet they did not dare hope for anymore that awaits them as they settle under the covers, together.

Kurt's head coming to rest on his chest, the remains of the cold Blaine felt all day melt away into the dark. A dark Blaine does not feel he has to fear wrapped into Kurt's soft warmth.

xxxx

Kurt needing rest just as much as Blaine, it is a good thing, really, that neither knows of the secret midnight meeting Smythe has called for the Warblers that night.

* * *

><p>AN:

Hope you LOOOOOVED every second of it. These chapters are getting insanely long now, but I had promised you Wes, and I wanted to deliver.

If you prefer them shorter let me know and I will try my best.

Having written this I can't wait myself for Wes and Blaine to finally have a proper talk.

And Gosh! What is Smythe up to now? _I am serious_, I have as little an idea as you right now, since I haven't written it yet. But I will. HA!

Hey, there has to be some kind of explanation why Santana does not run into the complete pack of prepies that Thursday. And Smythe really strikes me as one who would totally go for a secret midnight meeting.

_See you next chapter. I hope._


	6. Closer

**A/N:**

I hope you still love this story. I do.

xo M

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six: Closer<strong>

* * *

><p>To Kurt, waking up comes all too easy the next morning.<p>

And really, you cannot call it morning at all.

In fact, you can barely call it the next day.

Kurt wonders, too, if you can really call him awake. Lying there, staring into the dark of a room feeling cold, making Kurt want to hold Blaine closer still. Which right now is not humanly possible. Not that Kurt cares much for humanly possible today.

Were they sitting in a tree somewhere, Kurt is sure he would look like one of those monkey babies hanging onto someone they trust will keep them safe, prevent them from getting lost somewhere between the endless seeming mass of trees.

Anyone walking into this room right now, anyone that is except for probably Blaine's mother, would take one look at them and think Kurt, lying there eyes staring without focus into the dark is the one in distress, the one searching out the emotional hold the warm body next to him spends.

Only, the other body, Blaine's body, is not that warm at all. And Kurt not the one being held.

Holding Blaine close, the night is spent well, better than well, Kurt would never even think to dispute that.

Any minute holding Blaine in his life has only ever been one worthwhile and treasured.

Still, Kurt cannot help but wish the time spent desperately clutching Blaine to his chest in the backseat of Santana's car, and before on the ground of an empty, dark parking garage - the only sound around him gasps and the almost mockingly slow dying sound of the Warblers' retreat - had been spent making out, maybe, making love, like that time between late afternoons and early evenings has been spent so often in the past two months.

An almost always empty house allowing them to let each other in completely. To let the soft sounds flow freely, sounds drawn delicately from each other's souls.

Making love, making the day, each day, count as something good, wonderful, brilliantly beautiful.

Making love in the soothing twilight streaming, almost every single day, without fail, into this very room they are now in - the days having been surprisingly full of sunshine and warmth, surprisingly void of November rain and the white of snow, so typically covering the ground and reflecting the orange glow of streetlamps at night, this time of year.

But this autumn, this winter has been light and warm, and maybe it is just them feeling that way, and maybe, some days, they like to think it is because of them, because they love each other that the world is not just now but forever a warmer place.

The clear skies have been connecting the hours of dark and light in such seamless ways, Kurt doubts he would ever have noticed the time of glow at all weren't it for the windows looking out into the western sky, letting in the westward light, in those late hours of the day, filling the air surrounding them up with warmth, sun and shine; causing the windows to appear to be made of translucent gold, if you look at them from the right angel.

And it have been _"…some of the most wonderful, magical hours in my life, lying here with you," _as Kurt had told Blaine one day, lying there in their afterglow, brightened by fusing with that of the day itself. No night, not even the longest, coldest and darkest nights of winter, could ever seem truly void of light on those days. After those hours, the light and warmth had stayed with them until the next morning, the next sunrise, even when apart.

The best part, to Kurt still is that they have discovered it together, Blaine for years not having spent as much time in this room as he now does with Kurt. Blaine likes to think it is not because the house is empty, void of his parents, most of the time, but because _"With you I can be happy, anywhere." _It had been a whispered confession during the Christmas break, which Blaine had almost entirely spent with Kurt, Burt and Carole, while Rachel had insisted Finn this year not celebrate Christmas at all, as a practice run for the years to come of them living together.

Kurt and Blaine had sat at the dinner table one day with Burt and Carole, joking about "_poor Finn_" this, "_poor Finn_" that, and "_I never thought he would agree. How did she get him to agree?"_

Burt had chimed in, _"So what are you two going to make each other give up?"_

Kurt and Blaine had just looked at each other and after a second of trying to look serious burst into laughter.

Burt and Carole had both looked on confused but quickly begun smiling at the boys' obvious amusement at the question. Their laughs had always been infectious, just as the smiles they have sported more often than not ever since the day they got together.

Blaine had finally said, _"We talked about it, and Kurt is getting an extra huge closet."_

_"Yes,"_ Kurt had smiled even more brightly, _"and Blaine is getting two large bookcases."_

_"Really? There is nothing you want to change about each other?"_ Carole had asked eyes slightly widened, more adoring than actually surprised.

Eskimo-kissing Kurt, Blaine had answered, _"All I've ever wanted to change about Kurt was for him to lose that pain and fear others had forced into him."_

Eskimo-kissing Blaine back still, before leaning in for a real kiss Kurt had replied, _"Yes, same here. And, Baby, you have done an amazing job."_

_"You too,"_ Blaine had answered leaning in for another kiss.

Memories of love, and Kurt finds himself bizarrely grateful Smythe finally did show his real character to Blaine, new fears having had begun to build in Kurt that _...Smythe might be able to take this kind of love away from us. _

The room, pitch black and Blaine's body colder than usual, colder than it should ever be, shivers running through him again and again, it is the first time Kurt feels discomfort with Blaine in his arms in these four walls. And it is a bitter reminder all this is far from over yet. _He has turned friends against us, has tried to drown us in new pain. _

But most of all it is the pain he feels wracking Blaine's body tonight that has his own skin running cold. That has the tears, silently rolling down Kurt's face, feeling hotter today than Kurt can remember them ever having felt. Except perhaps for... _that day_.

Another day altogether, in another hospital altogether then too. A specialists' clinic in California. And the weather had been boiling, but Kurt had not had slept in days back then, not really.

What he remembers as for the first time in his life he had lain awake a whole night, with his mother, in a hospital bed, watching for her breathing, only to collapse for a couple of hours the following day in his dad's arms, sleep unnerving and full of nightmares to his defenseless feeling mind.

His body small his mind had been too big, too vast to find the obviously corresponding thoughts, the answers that adults around him had kept asking to hear.

So eight years old he had made a choice, a choice that had honed a skill in him he now suspects has gotten him through the worst of bullying until he could find a home again, in Blaine, in Blaine's arms. That kind of home he had not really known anymore since the day his mother had died.

It had been the choice to ignore all the noise made around him, and to focus, on her, her alone, _"Mummy!"_ She had been the only one he had talked to, that whole stay at the clinic. And anyone you could have asked back then would have told you it was because as Kurt had heard said about himself often those days, _"The boy is shy," "The boy is scared." _

They had not understood that it had been focus, determination to be there with, be there for his mother, who had suffered long enough already that had him quiet, not wanting to waste time in endless, meaningless conversations with strangers.

He had known their time with his mother was short, he had been able to read it on Burt's face, devastatingly clear.

So caressing a strand of her hair, Kurt had lain there those nights, holding her, whispering, _"I am here, Mummy. Love you," _never more asleep than awake.

And if you would try and talk to Burt about that stay in California he would tell you about the one thing he found comfort in, in those days.

"_His grip was so strong, eight years old, just turned eight, and his little hands wound so tightly around one of mine in his sleep. His body was so tiny in my arms, but then I knew how strong he truly was,…already back then,…and that, as long as I would be there to give him something, someone to hold on to, we would be okay." _

Carole had sat there nodding, the day Burt had told her this story, himself in tears, just as Carole. And Burt had told Carole more, had told her about those other years.

The years in which Kurt had not felt like he could do that anymore, find hold in his father's arms. And Burt had not known how, just how to reach out. And it had been both of them who had suffered, silently. It is still both of them who, to this day, don't really know why.

It will be some more years, until they will talk about it. In fact, it will be the day that Kurt comes to him, and tells Burt that Blaine has asked him to start a family together that Burt will remind Kurt how strong he has been all his life, and that he does know, so well, how to be a source of love to others.

And Burt will be the one wearing the proudest smile, almost two more years from then, holding his grandchild for the first time.

But tonight is about another first - none so warming, and beautiful.

Because…for the first time since they have gotten together Kurt finds himself lying awake, wishing, willing the hours lying alone in the dark with Blaine to pass…faster.

When the clock shows him 6:10am, Kurt decides it is time to try for some damage control.

He cannot let Blaine see him like this.

_Okay…I could. I have. On other days,_ he finds himself remembering, with a smile he certainly did not wear that day when yet another totally different first time happened: waking up face to face with Blaine's camera.

_"BLAINE!"_ Kurt had scurried pulling grabbing at the covers to pull them over his head.

But Blaine had been quicker, one hand pulling the sheets off both of them, the other still on the release button of his camera.

Thinking back now, Kurt can still see the grin taking over Blaine's features in record time, when both of them had remembered they had slept naked, and what had led to that the night before.

_"Too late, the gorgeous gloriousness of your bed hair has already been eternalized,"_ Blaine had chimed, grin still firmly in place.

Kurt remembers rolling his eyes as he had flopped back into the pillows that day, voice stern but smile already just as big as his boyfriend's, _"Creep."_

_"Because I want aaaaaall of the world to know how beautiful you are?"_

_"Blaine! That photo…."_

_"Photos,"_ Blaine had corrected with a smirk that Kurt, then starring at the ceiling, had still seen that day out of the corner of his eye.

Another eye-role and then Kurt had said in a stern tone, _"Those photosssss, are not leaving this room."_

And then there had been a shift on the mattress, and in the next second Blaine hovering above him.

Kurt had let out an undignified moan as he had felt Blaine's half-hard cock resting against his abdomen…but what really had done it, had had Kurt's breathing turn from moan into panting against Blaine's lips, hovering right above his own - not even two inches apart - had been the heat of Blaine's whole body pulsating against all of his own.

His breath had hitched completely in his throat when his gaze had moved from Blaine's lips to Blaine's eyes and seen them glazed over in the way he knew meant only ever one thing, Blaine was feeling it too, _this…heat, seemingly pooling in his eyes, giving a glow, special, unique_, only ever there to be found, giving the hazel an almost golden glow, when Blaine is looking at Kurt, feeling their love pulsing between them, bridging spaces, no matter how big with a connection their skin not even having to touch for it to be felt, deeper, real deep.

Since that morning, not long ago at all, but appearing that way in their memories already – with everything that has happened since – many pictures have been taken.

Pictures showing looks stolen at each other over shoulders, heads resting on pillows, eyes closed, or open and full of sleep, full of adoration, some even capturing a glimpse of that glow, in hazel or blue, shimmering clear.

All of them full of love, sometimes, yes, sometimes mixed with playful, and carefully crafted, sparks of annoyance, never looking earnest enough to be taken entirely serious, or to dominate the picture.

They share a real collection by now, of pictures of both of them…in love…with each other.

_Mhm,_ eyelids heavy, Kurt allows his eyes a brief break from staring into the dark of the room, thinking of all those pictures, all those happy memories made right here, not all but a lot of them, right in this room, this bed.

_I want nothing more than for this to be a lazy morning of taking silly pictures… together._

Thinking these last word his eyes already drift open again, too soon, much too soon.

And there it is, still, the dark, void of the warmth he carries in that to be found behind his eyes - where thoughts warmed by hope and dreams fueled by love promise safety.

But when you are Kurt, reality is hard to keep out, because Kurt knows of the dangers of doing so.

And the thought that comes, faced with reality, hurts…stings cold.

_Not is about being serious, being responsible…how could I…_How could Kurt have fun today? How could Kurt, today of all days, feel anything related to joy in a way untainted?

A Kurt, having been hurt less in the past, that Kurt, he would instantly have known better. For this, our Kurt, this hurt Blaine's Kurt, everything about this day has the feel of a fight, waiting to be fought.

It is hard for Kurt to remember that even with one or both of them hurt, they, them, Kurt and Blaine, neither is alone anymore with his fights. Neither is, has to be, alone in this.

Ever since they began sharing their lives, as friends, as lovers, things have become possible, simply _… by daring to think them._

For the first time not only nightmares but _dreams_ have insisted on crossing the line into reality.

And Kurt's first instinct too often still remains to push them away, push them back without ever registering what is coming his way. Conditioned to expect pain the love too often is still hard to make out. But lately, in just these last couple of weeks, more often than not, with Blaine in his arms, he does not - he allows the new, takes chances and risks, scary, for himself, for and with Blaine…for love.

And then Kurt is smiling.

It is not easy to achieve, that smile, on this day, but it is still even more impossible to hold back.

_I am sure Blaine will want a picture with the eye-patch._

And he has never dreamed of a pirate boyfriend himself, but Blaine loves turning fear and pain into something to smile maybe even laugh at,…one day. And Kurt wants that for both of them, to be able to quite literally look back at this and be fine.

He gets up to snatch the camera from the nightstand on Blaine's usual side of the bed, which Kurt somehow ended up sleeping on tonight, or rather not sleeping on, entirely focused on holding Blaine close.

Blaine steers, a little, as Kurt's warmth shifts, but Kurt knows the camera well enough to operate it with one hand, so moves his left hand back to rest on Blaine's chest.

Kurt feels a jolt of pain surge through his stomach, as Blaine instantly settles back into quiet, both of Blaine's hands finding Kurt's on his chest, Kurt wondering how often Wes…_how many nights Wes had held Blaine…_a sobbing, shivering Blaine before they had found out this works.

Kurt has never been more grateful… _to have Wes to call a friend, that Blaine has Wes to call a friend._

And the word does not seem nearly enough when it comes to Wes either way.

_Click._

It is a soft sound, as always - echoing only in Kurt's thoughts.

Blaine will find the picture weeks later, among others, after having them developed old-school.

There is part of it, the process, that always reminds Blaine of times that in his mind, in his memories, still feel happier than anything he has with his family now. Things, Blaine, feels will always be worth holding on to.

And a couple of months from now, sometime around their second Halloween as a couple, Kurt will begin to tease him, will then keep it up for years to come with astonishing stamina, that he has _"… never seen a cuter pirate in my life." _

And Blaine lets him, answering with playful glares, and sweet pecks on lips, followed by eye-rolls. Knowing it is not about the teasing at all, isn't for fun, or to annoy him. Knowing it is Kurt's way of still apologizing for having to be saved from bullies from a school with anti-bullying rules.

Another Halloween, far, far in the future, Blaine will try to pull of the pirate look for real, it is the first time Kurt sees Blaine wearing eye-liner, but not the last. And it is surprising, and Kurt cannot help but think _surprisingly hot!_

That Halloween the evening will begin with them not even making it out of the door of their apartment, as Kurt will fall over laughing on the high heels he has no practice wearing at all, _"That wig, Oh My Gosh, Baby!"_ and bang his head lightly at a table counter. And the evening will go on and end between the sheets, that is after Kurt, sitting in Blaine's lap, Blaine holding an icepack to the back of Kurt's head, whispers, _"Seriously though, that, when we thought we had to be extra careful with each other, because you were hurt, and were hurting, and I was too, that is when we started getting _really_ good at making each other come so…,"_ Blaine will kiss him so hard then, that they will both topple over the side of the couch, and end up a laughing mess on the floor, this time together, and safe and sound… and whole.

Yes, they will make it to the bedroom, that day, between the sheets, much earlier than planned.

Their clothes won't.

But those are memories still to be made.

Kurt, careful not to take rest much needed, from Blaine, carefully places the camera back on the nightstand, after having watched Blaine sleep, through the lense, just for a moment, literally unable to resist, utterly forgetting he even was holding the camera at all.

His heart beats impossibly fast as he looks back from the nightstand to Blaine, already beginning to fear the view through the lense might have been deceiving, distorting the details that are the thing that really makes reality.

But there it still is the peacefulness Kurt had hoped for all night. _Right there_. For the first time in hours.

So he stays a couple more minutes than he had intended to, right where he is, breathing in Blaine's scent, deep, as to take some with him when he will get up to get ready for the day already too long, in a moment.

Taking in Blaine's for once this night truly peaceful looking features Kurt is still unable to believe his luck in being allowed to feel this love, not having to feel around for it in the dark anymore, the dark so much of the universe seems to be made up off.

Eventually he moves away, places one of the heavier pillows into Blaine's arms then sneaks off to the bathroom - on his way grabbing the overnight bag of the floor by Blaine's desk.

_Moisturizing might take away some of the all too obvious tiredness,_ he thinks he might just about be able to keep out of his eyes, if he tries harder than he actually feels able to any time soon today, everything heavy with the lack of sleep.

Kurt does not admit it to himself in the early hours of that day, but really, it is not tiredness.

It is exhaustion, cold, sharp, brutal - impossible too, to cover up with those who love him. They see right through the mask, when they look closely, which Burt has made a habit off, ever since last year's death threat.

And Kurt actually does know that already, has had a talk about it with his dad, about letting him in. _"I love you so much, Kiddo. I don't want to force my way in. But I will if I have to, to be able to protect you. So please…I want to be there for you. I love you, Kiddo." _

There will be another talk today.

The bathroom is dark when Kurt enters, already doubting his decision to leave Blaine's side.

The tiles are cold under his feet. It is a momentary shock, maybe slight discomfort…but nothing more than one of those fleeting moments.

What Kurt will still remember vividly of this morning a long time from now is the taste of Blaine's lips laced with sugar and cinnamon.

Of course, if you would tell him this, right now, as he, shivering, steps deeper into the darkness of Blaine's bathroom – the frosted glass keeping out even the light of the stars, so clear in a sky left untouched by a nearly new moon – he would not believe you a single word.

All that could go wrong in the next hours is lying heavy on his mind, clouding his senses.

Kurt, still only in his boxers, feels the next shiver reaching deep under his skin – paralyzing him in this moment, leaving him defenseless against the pain surging through his every vein, piercing cold.

And while this night slowly turns into morning there is a thought Kurt tries to hide, even from himself, maybe most of all from himself…

It does not change the fact though, that deep down he knows it to be true, knows that it is not fabric that is missing from his skin, not material made to keep his own body heat close to him, but…_Blaine. _

The warmth of his healthy, happy boyfriend clinging to him as they climb out of bed together and settle on the small seat in front of this mirror, or the one at Kurt's home, more often the latter one, _…together._

Blaine in the morning often not even allowing the thought of letting go, simply tightening his arms around Kurt's waist, chest pressed close against Kurt's back, warmth, Blaine's warmth flooding all of Kurt's body as Blaine's hands come to rest on his lower abdomen, giving Kurt all the freedom to move his arms as he pleases while Blaine watches him apply all kinds of skin care products.

It had taken some time for Kurt to get used to doing his moisturizing routine with Blaine right there, studying Kurt's every move with love in his eyes, longing sometimes that Kurt had only come to understand as after weeks Blaine had worked up the courage to ask Kurt if...

_"Would it be weird, I mean, I…um…."_ Blaine had not known how to ask.

_"It's okay, just…just ask,"_ Kurt had replied with that soft smile of his that never fails to reassure Blaine, and that is the first thing he begins to actively miss as soon as they are forced to be apart more than a day.

With that one smile from Kurt, reassuring and loving, things had suddenly been easy. Easy to think, easy to say, and now, ever since that day, what happened next has become part of their shared routine:

_"I love your hands, Kurt. Your…your touch on my skin. Would you…?"_

And Kurt had smiled wider in understanding and nodded happily, _"Yeah."_

So now at least twice a week, and utterly regardless of time of day, Kurt and Blaine sit down together and Kurt caresses Blaine's features with fingertips exploring every inch of skin on Blaine's face ever anew, never getting entirely enough himself.

And Blaine studies, commits to memory, every single gentle stroke off Kurt's fingertips applying creams to his skin.

They both cannot really explain, but it is one of their favorite things to do together now. Maybe after all the years apart, not knowing that the other existed, doubting that love could exist for them, at all, the loving touches are a way, their way of making a past etched into their whole bodies' skin theirs to share.

Loving, gentle, caring touches and gazes, found in eyes open wide, means so much, to both of them.

There had been that one time when Blaine had, opening his own eyes in the middle of Kurt's gentle ministrations, caught Kurt with his eyes closed, studying Blaine's smile with the gentlest tracing motions of his fingertips alone. And Blaine's smile had widened in understanding and Kurt's eyes slowly opened in surprise, meeting Blaine's gaze.

Kurt had blushed but held Blaine's gaze that day, letting Kurt's eyes appear to Blaine to darken in their blue, in the contrast to Kurt's flushed skin.

And Blaine's breath had hitched, realizing that he had seen this open, trusting expression, that sets his heart racing every time, before - for the first time…_back in November_.

Not an hour later, Kurt whispering, _"I love your smile," _Blaine whispering back, eyes fluttering shut, _"I'm so happy with you," _they had fallen asleep that night, in Kurt's bed, in a place that feels like a home, both with smiles on their faces, foreheads resting together and a hand each on the other's cheek, fingertips still gently tracing the corners of their mouths, their smiles.

Blaine's warmth, Blaine's smile – Blaine smiling with the purest of joy, _…in that way, truly happy, he only ever does when it is just us, only us_, Kurt cannot deny the knowledge that it is the absence of this that has him still shivering as he sits down in the dark, alone – the ache inside more piercing than the iciness of the room, this house, and his thoughts dark, surrounding him.

These things, to others often small, silly, gestures of love – a way of living their love for each other, to Kurt and Blaine, and not silly in the least, these expressions of love – taken from both of them these days, their missing is what has sadness and the pain of Blaine's absence clinging to Kurt's skin, the darker thoughts firmly lodged in his mind.

Keeping the door of the bathroom wide open, Kurt stands up once more to turn on only the small light directly over the sink, lighting the mirror, before he sits back down.

As practiced as he is in every movement of his morning routine even Kurt cannot do it in darkness this complete.

There is a moment in which the lights are utterly too bright to really see anything clearer, so Kurt allows his eyes another much needed break, and just listens for the sound of Blaine's breathing, still deep and even, drifting in from the bedroom.

Listening gets harder once Kurt, reopening his eyes, tries to concentrate on his own reflection as well.

He can feel the focus briefly found slip away again, within seconds, as an image he never minds seeing, prompted by the sound of Blaine's relaxed breathing, drifts to the forefront of Kurt's mind: Blaine, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and looking so, so…_relaxed, happy_.

An old memory collected waking up in that first night, after their first time, then unable to look away for all the right reasons.

Mesmerized, overwhelmed by the beauty he could not only see but feel his whole body tingling with, "…the happiest moment in my life," Kurt whispers into the silence of this new day, unsure and more afraid of what it might bring than ever before.

It is a sharp surge of pain Kurt feels bolting through his forehead in the next second that has him fear only more it might be nothing good, nothing good at all.

Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, hissing in pain, he knows he has lost the fight for now, to hold on to that image of the purest happiness he can remember ever having felt.

There are new memories now, dark, drilling their way to the surface of his mind. Scratching and tearing at Kurt's insides they hurt deep already and Kurt is scared.

…_so damn scared the pain will only grow in time, and…and what if…what…_he can barely finish the thought it hurts so much to admit to the horrific truth of the possibility alone…_what if_ _they are here to stay?...take over? What if we cannot move past…this?_

This, Kurt finds himself wishing he had a clearer idea already of what _this_ really is. Afraid that if he does not find out soon, he will be too late in fighting it…afraid that he will be left helpless and alone, back in that old darkness he remembers still all too well from that time after losing his mother and before finding Blaine.

_Wes. Please get here soon. I need you here to figure this out. I can't do it alone. _

A tear slips down Kurt's face as he remembers, too vividly, waking up, still more in the yesterday than today, after only two hours of true rest, to his boyfriend ringing for air in his sleep. Wes's advice all Kurt had had all night long, still all he has, Wes's advice and his own love for Blaine, to try his best to fight Blaine's pain with him,…_for him if I can. It should not be either of us lying there hurt, in pain. But it was meant to be me. Blaine, it was always meant to be me, not you. Never you. _

The sob Kurt chokes back is dry and hard and cuts sharp into his throat, but all Kurt can think, doing his best to disregard his own pain, is…_now is not the time to break down. _

And if there is one thing that puts Kurt apart from most people surrounding him in his daily life it is his ability to will things into existence.

For once the lack of sleep brings relief, slowing Kurt's every thought, preventing him from working himself into a panic.

Another tear making its way down his cheek, and…

…Kurt does not do this!

He just does not.

Kurt Hummel starts over when something interrupts his routine.

It is the one thing he can do perfect every day. No matter how much life is out of control, he has _this_.

But today there are so many other things…_I have to be perfect_ _at_…, that he is not even fully aware that he simply works the tear back into his own skin with the circling motions of his fingertips on his cheeks, slightly reddened by the pressure applied a little too forcefully, Kurt still somewhat lost, somewhere, in his slowed down thoughts.

The next twenty-two minutes are spent brushing teeth, getting dressed, styling hair, and all of it in near silence, and a little comfort returning with the real calm the familiarity of these motions so often holds for Kurt.

Today though, the calm does not outlast the moment it comes in for more than two minutes.

Keeping watch over the one you love just with your sense of hearing is a nerve wracking business, and Kurt finds himself rushing back into his boyfriend's bedroom more than once, thinking he heard something.

Fearing that that something means…everything.

_Everything bad – more tears, more blood, more pain._

Kurt is just done putting on a thin line of eyeliner when he hears the shifting of covers, _Or did I just imagine it?…again?_

He hesitates, Kurt hates hesitating but sometimes it is impossible to help, and so before he even takes so much as a single step towards the bathroom door, Blaine appears in the doorway, looking slightly unsteady on his feet, and coming to lean against the doorframe in the next moment.

Blaine might look weak, but Kurt forces himself to remember...that he cannot be this selfish today, cannot just rush over and hold the other boy.

_To make Blaine feel like he can do this, that he is strong enough, _Kurt wants to do this for Blaine so very much. So he holds back, swallows the fresh tears building around the thought, and keeps his legs in place.

"Hey," Blaine says, trying to blink the sleep out of his open eye.

In the end, in reality, hearing Blaine's voice, strong, is the only thing that stops Kurt from dropping the eyeliner, still between his fingers, right into the sink and rushing over to wrap Blaine into his arms…_and hold him, just hold him…safe. _It is all Kurt can think about, it is all he wants.

Composed Kurt in turn tries his best to offer Blaine a happy smile, but it is laced with pain and sadness, Kurt's state of exhaustion taking its toll, taking brilliance and conviction from his smile altogether. But there are always still words to try and cover up. So Kurt does…try. "Hey, Love. How are you feeling?"

The worry still shows in his voice, and on any other day Blaine would instantly pick up on it, but… Blaine is exhausted himself.

…_and slightly dizzy by the looks of him._

Kurt knows he should think of this as a good thing, being able to hold things back today, especially the potentially hurtful ones.

_It is necessary_,…bitterly so, but Kurt does not like it at all.

Hiding something, anything, from Blaine has never felt _anything_ but wrong. And Kurt has always been bad at it anyway, frequently blabbing out surprises.

He cannot see this holding up all day. The breaking point will come.

All Kurt wants is to hold it off until after Blaine's surgery, when he will be on so many painkillers again, that Kurt can stop fighting this fight, and sink into bed next to Blaine.

…_just hold his hands, hold him,…_so that they both can let go of the pain inside without Kurt having to fear causing Blaine the additional pain of confusion. Confusion about the pain of his own, anger too, that Kurt is still fighting to hold inside right now.

Kurt is immensely thankful for Blaine's voice taking him away from the thoughts held back and drenched in tears unshed.

"I don't know. It feels like I fell asleep only two minutes ago." Blaine lets out a sigh, "Heavy….Everything feels really heavy."

And, _Thank goodness_, Kurt finds himself thinking,_…clothes are the nicest necessity on earth to busy yourself with,_ "I'll help you change. Something comfortable, yes?"

"Yeah," Blaine says with a tired sigh, attempting a thankful smile with it.

"Okay, I get you something while you clean up a little."

Placing a kiss to Blaine's cheek Kurt turns to walk past Blaine back into the bedroom, then stops, "Oh wait. Let me help you wash your face first and change the eye-pad one more time. Just to make sure. Is that…okay?"

Blaine nods in thanks, sleepy still, and slow.

They have time.

And even if they did not, they would make time for each other. They always do.

Always.

Blaine already looking more awake, with his skin gently cleared with nothing more than pure water, stands eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of Kurt's skin on his.

When Kurt gently, almost hesitantly presses the flat of his left palm over the, in the still dimmed light, almost startlingly white looking fresh pad just placed over Blaine's eye, he can hear Blaine's badly suppressed hiss almost instantly, from the pain that just came with the slight shift of Kurt's body as he stretched out his free hand to reach for the eye-patch.

Kurt tries his best to ease the pressure without giving the pad room to slide. _At least my hands are not shaking, _they often do in the morning when Kurt has not gotten enough sleep the previous night.

"I'm so sorry, Love," Kurt whispers, "It will be over in just one moment, I promise."

Blaine is not supposed to _self-administer_, as the pamphlets so kindly informed, pain medicine of any kind so shortly before the operation. So to try and take Blaine's mind of the new pain Kurt talks on, "I talked to my dad last night. He says he and Carole miss us already. How...how would you feel about meeting Carole and Dad, for breakfast?"

Blaine's expression is suddenly so full of hope it knocks the breath out of Kurt.

"Really?"

The eye-patch placed back over the white pad, and their gazes meeting fully, finally, they simply stand smiling at each other. The sudden surge of happiness seemingly highly contageous.

The first word taking the quiet is a cracked whisper. Even Kurt has no idea what he had meant for it to sound like, let alone mean. So Kurt clears his throat, "Yeah. I, I talked to him last night, and he and Carole offered to take us to breakfast this morning. If you want, Love. Only if you want. I can always call them and cancel?"

Blaine just smiles at the still somewhat worried looking boy standing before him.

One step, two, and their bodies are pressed flush against each other.

Blaine's arms coming around Kurt's waist, chests so close, Kurt can feel Blaine's breath quicken at first touch, in the rise of Blaine's chest against his alone.

Blaine's right cheek resting pressed into the comfort of Kurt's right shoulder in the next second Blaine hums, "I love you."

"I love _you_," Kurt breathes back, hands itching to be free to bury themselves in Blaine's curls without fear. No such luck today, so Kurt finds his arms closing around Blaine's upper body instead, gently rubbing some warmth into Blaine's still bare skin.

When, Blaine lifts his head again, and their gazes and then lips meet, Kurt can feel the moment of hesitation, the hiss and whimper Blaine swallows before he opens his lips, hot breath hitting Kurt's lips, who parts them with a soft gasp and some hesitation of his own.

There is a sting unshakeable in allowing Blaine this control Kurt knows Blaine feels he needs to take today. But the pain coming for Blaine with a simple kiss, today, is harder to swallow for Kurt than Blaine himself.

_How are you supposed to not feel guilt knowing you are part of what causes the pain reflected in your lovers eyes?_ The thought almost has tears welling out of Kurt's eyes.

But as Blaine's breath continues to mingle with his, and Blaine's tongue delicately runs along Kurt's, maps out the warmth of Kurt's mouth longingly, there it is again, wins Kurt over quick, the depth of feeling love, not pain, depth that Kurt just as much as Blaine wants to sink into and never…never ever…

"Wow," Blaine pulls away, panting.

"Yeah." Kurt replies with a warm sigh and laugh, eyes cast down for a second, biting his lower lip, the thought of pain, somewhere deep inside a still playing echo.

He only looks up again hearing Blaine's next words a minute or so later, coming with a small chuckle, "And all without painkillers."

"Ha!" Kurt clasps his left hand over his mouth just as the sound escapes, surprised himself. And Blaine can see Kurt's eyes, glowing bright with the smile now hidden under fingers.

Blaine gently preys Kurt's hand away and interlaces it with his right, his left arm, still wrapped around Kurt's waist, keeping Kurt close.

Time never stands still...but right now it might as well.

There is nothing to miss, nowhere to be, being with each other, being…everything with one another, in this moment.

Kurt has long forgotten he even asked a question when Blaine, gaze intently connected with Kurt's, gives an answer, "I really, really want to see them." Resting his forehead against Kurt's Blaine adds, "And that someone will be with you and you don't have to sit there in the hospital all alone…."

Blaine swallows the thought too hard to fully form into meaning from the cry off pain it wants to come out in right now.

It takes Kurt's gentle squeeze of Blaine's hand to bring him back.

"It is good…, great to know you won't be alone. Makes it, makes things…."

"Easier?" Kurt offers.

"Yeah," Blaine replies failing at a smile, eye turning to the floor and closing.

"Yeah," Kurt replies softly with a smile, right arm coming around Blaine's upper body again, pressing their chests closer, allowing their hearts to beat together.

Gently pressing his right cheek against Blaine's, Kurt is relieved, happy, to feel that his touches have the desired effect, as he can feel the love shown, felt, bring both of them calm.

"Nothing has ever felt so right," Kurt whispers softly.

Blaine, resting his right temple against Kurt's nods, letting out a tender "Yeah," in a breathy voice, that sounds utterly too ragged for them just standing there.

They both tilt their heads a moment later and lips meeting they stay connected in another deep kiss - lips still brushing, when they open their mouths to gasp in some air, they are breathing in each other more than anything.

It is around 7:15am when they make their way downstairs.

About ten minutes ago they had, both standing fully dressed and just a few feet away from the door, ready to go, exchanged a knowing look of agreement.

And so, smiling, they had settled back down on the bed together.

They would have to face Blaine's mother early enough, who could make a house on fire feel like the arctic tundra. So really, this is the time to soak up some warmth.

They have already heard her downstairs, about twenty minutes ago, yelling at the housekeeper who had come by for some standard maintenance.

They do not say it out loud, they do not need to; they both understand why Blaine has been clutching his phone in one hand since they settled on the sheets, opening the same two messages again and again, lying with Kurt, in a comforting quiet, resting his head on his boyfriend's chest.

Burt and Carole had texted them while Blaine had changed.

Burt to Kurt: _Morning, Kiddo. Managed to clear whole day's schedule to be with you every step. Love, Dad._

Burt to Blaine: _Hope you're feeling better already, Kid. See you in a bit. __Love, Burt_

Carole to Kurt: _Hey, Sweety. Already packed your favorite travel pillow, so you can catch some shut-eye in the waiting room later. __Love You!_

Carole to Blaine: _Blaine, Hon, can't wait to see you. So happy you are coming home with us today. Love You, Carole._

Downstairs feels cold, as expected, far colder than Blaine's room had.

And Kurt cannot help the thought that it is really _her...just...being here._

After all, he has spent many days in this kitchen with Blaine, alone together. A cake in the oven, or popcorn in the microwave, bowls of fruit and sorbet or cups of coffee in hand, it did never matter, warmth was always everywhere they moved.

Not today.

Worse, Mrs. Anderson seems to think that seeing someone in person she is not about to do business with means she can, and absolutely is entitled to, ignore them.

So she does her best at that. And Kurt cannot dispute it, not for a second, she is damn good at it.

Kurt and Blaine, somehow feeling prepared for it after last night, keep their greetings short, polite too, but distant.

_No use trying to get close. _Blaine does not share the thought, does not really need to, Kurt can feel Blaine tense again, instantly, in his mother's presence.

_It shouldn't work like this between parents and children_, Kurt thinks angrily, maybe more upset.

But after a moment and a cold "Morning," as only acknowledgement, and with her basically ignoring them altogether from there on out, Blaine relaxes a little more again into Kurt's comforting hold in no time at all.

It really are the messages in his phone, Burt's and Carole's love, being able, allowed, to feel sure of it, and the feel of Kurt's hands holding his, that get Blaine through the silence and…

"We need to leave."

"I see you when I get back."

…being all he, or Kurt, get to hear from her this whole morning.

And then they are standing in the hospital's parking lot.

Alone again, together.

Not the worst thing to be, in fact most days one of their favorite things, but today somehow somewhat scary…and unnerving too. It is the setting, imposing this feeling on both of them, not the company.

They could look around, but it was just ten to eight, when they got out off the car into the cold morning air a moment ago, so they expect they will be waiting a short while longer for Burt and Carole to arrive.

At this point, no coffee in his system yet, it is mainly the cold that is keeping Kurt awake at all, he knows. Still, eyes locked with Blaine's uninjured one, all either of them wants is to move deeper into each other's warmth.

They are about to when…

...they are each pulled into two very different but both warm, almost blazing, loving embraces.

"Uoh," Kurt lets out a yelp, as Carole pulls him closer still, and _...yes, thank you, I am definitely awake again now._

Blaine on the other hand could not be more relaxed, instantly almost melting into Burt's warmth, whispering, "Thank you," into Burt's chest. And it has Burt remember what he still sometimes forgets, ..._how special this is to Blaine_, to be embraced like this by a father.

Carole's eyes meet Burt's over Kurt's shoulder, and they both let out a deep breath, exchange a nod and a smile, share a thought:

_They are alright, they got through the night alright._

xxxx

Wes would not mind having someone to hold him right now as well as he slumps down in his seat on the airplane.

His part of the world still more draped in night than morning, Wes lets out a heavy sigh.

Mumbling to himself it does not take long for him to get a questioning look from a stranger, an elderly man, sitting two seats over.

Wes is too tired to care, his thoughts not really here with them anyway, he does not even try to throw a half-hearted explanation the man's way. _Who would that do any good?_

"Things are going to turn out alright. Blaine will be fine, just fine… in a couple of weeks he will be all healed up, and…and…the…the…."

_The Warblers,…_Wes, tries hard to push all thoughts realting to them away for now, but still finds himself hung up on the fact that... _I hate being angry…with anyone._

And really right now it is all he can manage to feel towards…_all of them, really._

Wes wonders if it is only him feeling it, or if it is showing on his face, is detectible in his voice, the doubt, when he whispers to himself, "I _will_ figure this out," more than anything wanting to be able to let go off…_that stupid anger_.

If only one of them had answered his calls by now, Jeff or Nick or Trent…_David, I thought I knew _you_ at least, how could you…._

And right here it is, the only thing Wes hates more than being angry…

...being left to worry.

xxxx

Still hours away, in a small café in Lima, breakfast is a quiet affair. The four people sitting at the table, at first, talking less altogether than Wes, to the irritation of the old man, is keeping up still, all by himself, as the plane takes off.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

This story means so much to me, I want to do you and it justice. I am here to become a better writer and yeah, THANK YOU to each and every single one of you who helps me so much doing that by letting me know how you see my writing. It means so so much!

*smiles* M


	7. To be holding you

**A/N:**

I love writing. I especially LOVE writing one Wesley Montgomery. …and I know for a fact that you lot love reading him. *grins proudly*

Here you go: **PURE WES**

ENJOY!

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven: To be holding you<strong>

* * *

><p>Sitting there one hour into the flight, with nothing else to occupy himself with – he is travelling light, no books, and he forgot his mp3-player on his bedcovers, and really…<em>generic airplane entertainment is not all people keep hyping it up to be<em> – Wesley is replaying, in his head, every conversation he has had since Jeff's phone call; conversations, with Burt, Kurt, and…_Blaine. _

_...it should have been the easiest one._

Talking to a close friend whom he loves dearly, and who loves him. Thinking back, to only hours ago, it worries Wesley that it had turned out to be the hardest conversation, of all, to have.

Not because he had not known what to say, but because he, while he had been fighting to bring out the right words in the right order, had not been able to stop thinking, _I just want to be there with you. Just…just be allowed, be able to…to hold you, _Wes knowing it is the one thing sure to help.

This whole situation feels to Wes like one of those cruel jokes the universe sometimes plays on people.

_It makes you work hard for the answers to questions that seem impossible to ever answer the first time you come across them, and then..., when you have them, the answers, all the right answers too, finally,…it puts you into a situation, in which it is impossible for you to put them to any use at all. _

Wesley's only comfort in all of this…_Kurt. _

The boy who, Wesley had seen it instantly, had had such a strong effect on Blaine.

That early afternoon Kurt had first shown up at Dalton, in Blaine's life, _in that improvised uniform so clearly out of place…,_Wes thinks back with a small smile, the first of today,…_Blaine had been miserable all morning. I had had to almost force him to not blow us off for the impromptu performance, and then…then there had been Kurt. And damn it, Blaine,…I want to see you that happy again, as happy as you were performing for…Kurt, that first time._

Of course the atmosphere had been one completely different, much less happy, that day, after Kurt had left again.

Blaine had refused to tell Wes, what had been exchanged in private over coffee after he and David had left.

And Wes had not pushed, but he had also refused to leave Blaine alone in his room. And there had not been a full-blown panic attack that night, but Wes still remembers vividly, lying awake more than half of it, holding a shaking Blaine in his arms, in a sleep torn...clearly tormented by nightmares.

_I would do it again, in a heartbeat._

All those nights holding Blaine close, they had increased heavily in number, once again, only days later, when something had happened at Kurt's school that Blaine, to this day, has not revealed to him.

To Wes it had seemed at the time, like Blaine had put all his energy into helping Kurt, leaving Blaine himself emotionally exhausted and fragile in a way only Wes really knows Blaine can be. _Blaine has never been one to broadcast his feelings. And..._

...and that has always been a cause of fear and worry to Wes.

Still, Wes had not asked for any explanation, well,…_once, I did_, but he had dropped it with Blaine's first shake of the head.

All Wes had cared about - ever since he had met Blaine, back then so hurt and so so broken, reminding him so painfully of his older brother Tyler, especially in the weeks before Tyler's second suicide attempt – was being able to be there for Blaine and now, Wes feels like he, in not preventing Blaine from being needlessly hurt, again, has…_now I have failed you,…too. _

There is no way around it, in Wes's mind.

He does blame himself for not keeping in closer touch with one of his best friends, for not doing all he possible could have to make sure Blaine stayed safe.

He had thought he had. But he had also thought he had left him with a safety-net of close friends that would never turn on Blaine.

How wrong he had been.

_I should have checked more on him…, all of them. Everything new had just been so overwhelming…and…, _Wes sinks his head into his hands and tries to slow his now worked up breathing.

"Excuse me, are you alright."

When Wesley looks up he sees a stewardess has stopped right next to him.

"Do you need anything?" she asks in a calm, professional tone.

"No…I," Wes has never been one for big lies, or small ones, so the _I am fine_ stays lodged in his throat while the woman keeps looking down to him kindly, "…I don't need anything. But thank you for asking."

"Okay. Well, if that changes just let me know."

"Thank you," Wes replies with a nod.

Leaning back in his seat, and simply watching for a moment as outside the small window to his right the light begins to change, Wes takes a deep breath.

_What was it Burt Hummel had said? Sebastian something? And Jeff, he had just sounded so off. The slushy was meant for Kurt, and Blaine got hit, and now needs surgery,…on Friday. Well, at least that will give me a day to work out what to do, together with Kurt and Blaine. After the operation he will be so drugged up, I doubt he will be in a position to talk about anything like this for a day or two. Kurt said he is already groggy all the time now._

Wes will only learn, later today, from Kurt, that the operation has been moved up to only hours from now.

Blaine being out cold when Wes gets to the Hummels's will give him time to talk to Kurt alone though, which he will need after the trip he has planned to take, before making his way to Lima to finally…_do something useful for Blaine. _

Wes cannot wait to be able to take both Blaine and Kurt in his arms…

…_that is if I don't get my arms broken before_, Wes thinks, as he watches the sun fuse the clouds in the sky with brilliantly warm colors, startlingly bright in the days yet only half light.

Wes remembers all too clear how devastated Kurt had looked the day they all had first met, so sure in his expectations that he had not even formulated it as a question at all, _"It is very civilized of you to invite me to coffee before you beat me up for spying."_

Running his right hand up and down his left arm, outstretched, still watching the sunrise, Wes breathes in and out deep and slow, once, twice, thinking.

…_We will see, right now everything seems possible when it comes to Dalton…The Warblers,…my friends?_

Alone having to question it…hurts.

_Getting in will be no problem_, Wes knows that much. They have not changed the school uniform since 1879.

* * *

><p>AN: Oh yeah. Wes is on a mission. You did not think Wesley Montgomery goes anywhere without a plan at least three-quarter ready in his mind, now did you? Especially after lying awake half the night.

Gosh I hope you loved it. I SO loved writing Wes. I had to wait for it so damn long.


	8. Piled

**A/N:** …things you needed to know to understand…, also, I love Ty. I had never cried because of something I wrote…, now I have.

I want Wes to be a character in this story, not merely a function, so it feels important to me to tell you more about him, and the people in his life.

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Piled<strong>

* * *

><p>It has never in his life done Wes any good, any good at all, to be confined to one space, no matter how roomy it could be considered by onlookers.<p>

With eyes not free to roam, unable to at least feel like he has the power to shift his own horizon, Wes's feeling of unease turns into ache every time. Today, sitting on this airplane, is no exception.

With the light outside the small window having stopped changing at a speed noticeable, there has been too long already nothing but a white wall of clouds to busy his mind with.

The white-washed wall of his dorm room, two nights ago, after Jeff's phone call, had been a relief to look at – lending focus to Wes while he had tried to sort through the mess of thoughts twirling in his mind.

Right now though he is wishing for distraction from the thoughts turned over and over, already one time too many, in his mind - now beginning to thoroughly scrape the insides of it raw with every turn more.

The blank canvas of water clotted as white mist, pilled one structure upon the other, dominating his vision, feels akin to torture.

His eyes are aching already when he soon turns away from the sight and closes them, the darkness as it settles, beginning to rapidly grow equally unnerving as the former sight had been.

Wes tries to find a thought soothing to him. But with all that has happened all he can think is _Warblers, Kurt, Blaine…_

Wes lips part slightly, and if he was alone right now, he would be singing already.

Joining the Warblers, it had been the attempt, successful, to make a new home for himself, away from a home that had not felt to be the same loving place...ever again...since Tyler had taken his own life.

Tyler had not been one to sing, and Wes, knew he had to be his own person…, knew Tyler had always wished for him to be just that, nothing but himself - something Tyler trying, and trying hard, had never completely been able to feel like, Wes had only understood much later.

Their parents don't talk about him, not to Wes at least, so all Wes has are his own memories and a doctor's diagnosis.

Having been ten when Tyler's second suicide attempt had been a successful one, Wes still some days grows reluctant to trust what he thinks he knows.

Blaine had helped him, with feeling surer of his own thoughts, by explaining to him about some of the fears and pain, Wes himself only knows second hand. Blaine keeps telling him that is a good thing, and that Wes has all he needs to have and show...empathy.

It had taken a lot for Wes and Blaine to come to the point where they could talk this openly.

_Ty_, Wes thinks, unable to bring his endearment for his older brother over his lips, slowly turning into a soft, saddened smile, eyes squeezed shut tighter for a moment as Wes reminds himself that it is a good thing that over the years he finds himself smiling at the thought of Tyler rather than crying for hours.

Ty had been Wes's nickname for his brother ever since_…ever since I can remember, _and long before Wes had been capable of understanding why…_why Ty had always loved it so very much, hearing me calling him Ty._

Hair longer than Wes's has ever been, jeans ripped more often than not, in a way Kurt would call fashion of the eighties - but really in Ty's case because he could not bring himself to stop wearing his favorite jeans even after he had literally worn them out - shirts plain with a small detail that would make them look unique, that is how Wes remembers his older brother, always standing strong and tall…to the outside world.

Even after the first attempt on his own life, _Tyler had had everyone even the psychologist convinced and fast, that he was all better now, with the pills. Pills he stopped taking, and then had used to…_. Of course Wes does not remember any of this first hand, learned about it years later only when he had searched for and found two of the five close friends Tyler had written about in his journals.

Journals and letters is all Wes has left of his brother. He had found them one summer, in a box, stowed away in the attic, when he had been looking for some old novels his mother had told him she kept up there.

_Charles Dickens_, Wes remembers sitting here now_, I…'A Christmas Carol', I spent that whole summer reading it over and over, listening to Christmas songs. That and Tyler's journals...and letters. _

Wes had spent the summer nights that year, age thirteen, having dreams, about the Ghost of Christmas Past, coming to take him see Tyler. Wes still feels grateful and indebted to Charles Dickens, to this day, for saving him from nightmares…nightmares Wes still had had to endure, years later, after a day of having talked some of his brother's writing through with Blaine…feeling like…_then, with Blaine, I understood so much of it, for the first time. _

Tyler had been anything but conformist, always insisting to try to be himself as much as anyhow possible, ..._maybe that is why he had never wanted to let go of his favorite clothes, not just the jeans, shirts too, that old worn leather jacket baught two sizes too big to make it last longer, beyond growth spurts_. It is the only piece of clothing Wes has left of his brother's. It too had been boxed up in the attic. Wes had worn it, far too much that summer, considering the heat waves dominating days and even nights. And Wes…Wes had not been able to stop crying when he had had to put his Dalton uniform back on after that summer of finding the journals and letters, the jacket still smelling so much like his brother; the uniform and…_the tie._

It too had been the summer of him turning 14, and reading what his brother had written, years ago, at his own age and slightly older, Wes had then understood, had understood so much more, especially…_Ty's love for my nickname for him. _

Putting on the uniform had remained a fight with tears for weeks, then, gradually the tears had grown less, and Wes had turned it around, turned it into a promise to his brother, every time he put on the Dalton blazer and tie, to one day make him proud…to learn to be and hold on to himself even in this uniform, and to live freely once he would be able to take it off...for good.

That is how Wes has always remembered Tyler, a proud older brother telling him the most fantastically imaginative bedtime stories.

Another of many things Wes had not understood until finding his brother's writing, about them, about himself and his feelings, had been why his brother had never made himself the hero of those stories. It had always been..._Prince Wes, and King Wes, Wizard Wes, and all around Magical...Wes. I, a hero, _Wes thinks shaking his head at himself, before he sinks back deep into thought.

The broken sob stays painfully lodged in his throat as he tries to remember and at the same time tries to somehow not feel the pain that comes with the thoughts of despair and loneliness, Wes had come face to face with, in his brother's writing...and in Blaine's words, once they had started talking.

One afternoon after Blaine had confessed to Wes to having thought about ending his own life, more than once, Wes had shared some of his brother's writing with Blaine and told him afterwards, _"You are not alone. We might not be the same in every way, but Blaine, you are not alone. Tyler thought that too, because I was then too small for him to talk to, and our parents not there enough, I guess. But…I am here for you to talk to now, and as long as I possibly can be. Please,…please believe me."_

Thinking back to this moment, there can be only one thought now for Wes, with everything that has happened,…_I left him alone. _And now Wes cannot hold them back anymore, the tears, pushing past his eyelids, closed still, staining his clothes.

_I left him alone._

And if something has been done to Blaine that causes him to do something reckless, if pain like that has been stirred again, Wes will never forgive himself.

Wes had first realized about a year before he had met Blaine for the first time, reading his brother's writing over and over - neglecting his school work for months still after summer - that there really had been nothing he, as a ten year old, could have done to stop what had happened. And it had taken his encounter and friendship with a too broken Blaine to actually…_stop, stop blaming myself._

No matter how much time ever passes though, Wes doubts he will ever not have problems swallowing pills. They will always stay a constant reminder of a goodbye Wes never got to say.

Having the pills at hand - Wes still is not sure where they all came from, maybe some at least from Tyler's therapy - Tyler had just had to pick the right place and time, so he would not, could not be found in time to save the life he had decided he did not want anymore.

Being a writer, a storyteller to his younger brother for years, Tyler had a well developed natural gift for timing. Not every fifteen year old would have been able to plan his suicide around the busy schedule of a cleaner, a gardener, a full set of parents, and in a way that would make it as unlikely as possible for his younger brother to have to be the one to find him, he too had learned from his first failed attempt. His mother having walked in on him, with wrists slashed open, Wes had found it all in the journals...hardly any page left now not stained with his and Tyler's tears, some mixed with Blaine's.

_Tyler that day had really wanted to die._

Wes had hated the realization hitting him.

It had happened one day after talking through a whole night, with Blaine, Blaine telling him how much he hated being in pain, but even when he was, still, for the most part, wanting to be alive, refusing to give up hope for something better.

It had been a talk they had had weeks before the first summer vacation since Blaine had started boarding at Dalton – Blaine unnerved and full of dread because he would have to spend the summer with his cold, unloving mother.

He had ended up spending a lot of said summer with Wes.

That talk, too, had led to Wes for the first time fully opening up to Blaine.

_"I miss him,"_ Wes had said in a voice quiet, almost inaudible,_ "so much."_

And so the roles had been reversed.

And with blinds quickly drawn, Wes had been the one being held all through the day.

Wes had not felt this safe, had not allowed anyone to hold him like this, to comfort him, ever since Tyler's death.

Five years is a long time not to be held close…with love.

It had been important for Blaine as well, knowing that Wes needed him just as much as he needed Wes.

Wanting and needing each other, and most of all, finding understanding with each other, finding someone in the other who understands so many things other's don't, it is what makes their friendship strong, what has them caring so much still, about each other, even now that they are so far apart.

Wes remembers Blaine telling him once, _"Without you, without your, our, friendship, I'd never have known how to be there for Kurt the way he needed me to when he and I first met. I owe you so much Wes...so much of my happiness."_

As close as Wes had been with David, all of their school years together, it had been a friendship based on something so entirely different than that with Blaine. Fun,...mostly.

And yes, it had been wonderful, and yes, Wes had needed it then, had needed to not dwell on the pain he has been carrying inside ever since Ty's death, yes,...still does.

Until he had met Blaine, Wes had barely allowed himself to be aware, at all, of the fact that he had needed more than distraction, that something was missing - and it was not all done and well after having gotten some answers at least, from Tyler's writing - _…someone_, Wes sighs sadly. _And no, Blaine is not replacing Ty. Is so unlike Ty in so many ways. For one Blaine hates licorice, Ty loved that stuff, _Wes thinks with a small smile now.

Ty had never pretended to be anything, had been...had been…_just himself, all his life. And it had been so much._

And Wes holds on to the feeling, the hope that being a kid in this case has given him a viewpoint, and a memory much clearer than that of an adult's - corrupted with expectations the world tell us we should have of others, and others should fulfill to rank high with us.

_Ty was amazing. _

_Ty IS amazing._

Wes has changed since he has taken of the school uniform he had sworn, years and years ago, to not let tell him who he should be, what he should be like.

In a way both Blaine and him had needed it, the uniform as a retreat, a safe cocoon, in which to figure out what they as people really are capable of, what they can be away from memories too hard to face every single day at such a young age. And maybe that is why it pains Wes so much to see his safe place corrupted by…_that Smythe guy._

His family home, huge as it is, had felt like a safe place as long as Tyler had been there with him.

Wes had not understood at first where Tyler had gone, and had refused to acknowledge the fact that Tyler would never sit with him on his bedcovers again - book assigned by their parents as bedtime reading lying at the foot of the bed, while Wes had been, cuddled deep into his brother's embrace, listening, eyes wide and shining, to his brothers words forming stories. Wes's imagination drawing the most fantastically colorful pictures for him when his eyelids grew heavy and eyes slowly drifted shut, and he could not follow the lively gestures anymore that had always accompanied Ty's telling of stories.

While their parents had, all the time, just stood up in the middle of a story to take a phone call and not returned after,...Tyler had never left Wes.

He had always stayed with his little brother, and talked on even after Wes's eyes had slid shut, signaling sleep approaching fast. Wes cannot remember Tyler leaving him, not once, always talking on, holding Wes, until he had been fast asleep.

And then…one day, Tyler was just gone and Wes, only ten, was told he would never see him again. It had taken months for Wes to stop sitting there, ready on his bedcovers, waiting for Tyler to come back. Wes crying himself to sleep every night for even longer...missing feeling loved in the way Tyler had never once given him reason to doubt he did.

Singing, it had been such a perfect and easy choice for Wes to make, nothing about it had at the time reminded him of his brother, even if his own voice should have reminded him of Tyler, he would not have known. Could not. He does not have one memory of Tyler singing, not ever, which sometimes makes him sad too.

Singing, Wes had bonded quickly with Kurt over how free it makes both of them feel.

But the gap, the age, mother nature had put between Tyler and Wes had – with Tyler gone – somehow shrunk. And so one Friday, in May, one of the last weekends before the school year had been over, Wes, himself only months away from his fifteenth birthday, and some more from meeting Blaine for the first time, had discovered something.

Getting ready for a party with some friends, Wes out of his school uniform, for the first time in a long time, had found not himself staring back at him out of the mirror in his dorm room.

Buying the shirt, in a deep dark blue with a pattern of sliver lines in the downward left-hand corner, he had not realized that wearing it with some jeans, and his hair having slightly outgrown in the last months, all it would need for him to be the spitting image of the Ty he remembers would be some tears to the jeans and less product in his hair. …_glasses, don't forget his glasses, _Wes still remembers now thinking to himself that day.

Wes had not gone to any kind of party for the rest of that school year...had not felt like it, at all.

Thinking back to all this Wes, maybe for the first time seeing the bigger picture this clear, cannot really speak of surprise when it comes to the fact that he and Blaine had bonded at the beginning of the next year, over being somewhat on the quieter side, compared to all the other Warblers.

Wes is left smiling once more, which is such a nice break from all the worrying he has done recently, still is, thinking of how much both of them had helped each other out of their shells that first year they met.

_I want more left with Blaine than memories._

All Wes has left of Ty, has taken care to take with him to college too - in case his parents decide to box up his room in the same record time they had cleared Tyler's, after what to Wes always had felt like his older brother's disappearance rather than death - are his journals and letters, the leather jacket, and…the big plush leopard.

Only weeks before he killed himself Tyler had brought it to him, the big, fluffy creature.

"…_he is called Ty too," _Wes still remembers Tyler telling him one night.

"_Just like you," _Wes recalls answering with wide, wondering eyes.

"_Just like me," _Tyler had answered with a smile, bright. _"He has promised to me he will always protect you," _Tyler had gone on to explain.

"_But you protect me…," _Wes had wondered out loud.

"…_just in case," _Tyler had replied with a soft, loving smile. _"You can never have enough people, who love you as much as Ty and I do, Wes."_


	9. Who do you think you are?

**A/N: **I felt it was high-time for this chapter. It is, I think, something very much different from all the others. Not only in length. I would love it if you let me know if it has the same different kind of vibe to you. :)

For you _My Love_, against the Boredom. You know who you are;)

Love, M

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine: Who do you think you are?<strong>

* * *

><p>Sebastian is having the time of his life.<p>

It is shortly after 9am and his French class is in full swing. He, however, is still sprawled out on one of the couches in the choir room, phone in hand, scrolling through his latest messages, thinking to himself all the while, _'It's a travesty, not a French class, no way am I wasting my time on that.'_

Rolling his eyes at a world that, _'…employs people like that to teach French. At a private school!'_ his attention is refocused when rediscovering the latest message of someone he finds to be much more entertaining than Miss Parker and her "French".

7:13am -Ignore my messages all you want. You won't get away with this. I'll make sure of that.-

Smirking he scrolls through all the other threatening messages again - his phone has not stopped beeping all night.

1:26am -I'm coming for you.-

3:49am- With that slimy smirk of yours, sure you don't brush your teeth with slug juice every night?-

3:58am – I would introduce you to a toothbrush by shoving one up where the sun don't shine but I have a feeling you might enjoy that.-

4:15am -So do people puke in your mouth while you kiss them _every time_, or is smelling your breath enough to give them a taste of your rotten core so that you just go through loads of pairs of shoes each day? –

4:16am – The smell of puke must really complement your personality.-

5:59am -Forget getting red wine out of your precious blazer, I am going to soak your whole wardrobe in the cheapest shit I can find.-

Sebastian cannot wait to find out who of the Nearly Disfunctionals he is dealing with.

_'Those Blonds and Asians all looked way too stupid to plan anything. The guy with the strip of ugly carpet on his head is a total joke, and dances almost as badly as that guy walking around like he is half brain-dead. Urgh, I can't even be bothered to really try and figure this out. It's not like I need to anyway. None of them could ever be a real threat to me. And with those Warblers as my puppets I can take all of them at once if I need to.'_

_"_Bring it misfits. Bring it," he shouts, past his lips still turned into a snickering smirk, to the empty room.

He wallows in the sound of his own voice echoing back from the high ceiling. _'Finally something to be heard in here that sounds good. These Nearly Disfunctionals are a joke as it is, but those dumbass Warblers would still be so screwed without me. They would so lose again to them this year. Idiots, talentless morons. All of them.'_

Moments later the next message arriving tears him from his thoughts.

9:17am -I am going to kick your ass. This afternoon I am coming for you. SNIX!-

Sebastian just snorts reading it, whispering to himself, "Let's see you try, _Snix_. Stupidity _must be_ hereditary if one of you fuck-ups actually has parents who named one of you losers _Snix_."

Rolling his eyes once more he tosses his phone to the side, scoots further down on the couch, locks his arms behind his head and relaxing into the _'at least comfortable furniture' _makes the annoyance room, "I _SO_ need a new hobby. Scandals and the Warblers are boooring me to DEATH!"

The midnight meeting last night had gone swimmingly, too swimmingly for Sebastian's finicky tastes.

'_I have those guys wrapped around my little finger.'_

Apart from this adding to his boredom, the thing he finds unsettling about it, well, more disappointing really - for the lack of a challenge it leaves with him - he cannot shake the feeling that, _'Those guys are so pathetic they might just follow anyone.'_

And Sebastian just _cannot_ have that, people not acknowledging, worse, _'not recognizing, to begin with,…',_ how special he is, _'…how special I am.'_

Well, the attempt to make Blaine see has thoroughly misfired.

Yes, Sebastian is having the time of his life.

Definitely.


	10. Sleepless

**Tears Stained**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten: Sleepless<strong>

* * *

><p>Santana and Jeff have one thing in common this cold winter morning as they are sitting miles and miles apart in different cities, different schools, different classes – not thinking in the least about each other.<p>

They are both, after a night decidedly lacking sleep, exhausted.

And while Santana suffers through another lesson of _SpanishSole_ – as she has called Mr. Schue's Spanish class mockingly ever since she learned in her German class with Mr. Walter that sole is called Schuhsohle in German, and Schuster is German for shoemaker, because her German teacher actually does speak German – Jeff is fighting to stay awake through World Geography, halfway through only briefly noticing that he has no idea what country they are even talking about.

Both their thoughts, when not stuck on Blaine and Kurt, or Smythe, keep returning to Wes.

Wes and Santana had bonded through a rather surprising encounter, running into each other one day at the mall in Westerville only weeks away from Wes's graduation from Dalton.

Wes alone and out of the school uniform, Santana had been in Brittany's company. Remembering each other from the Warbler's Valentine's Day performance at Breadstix, they had gotten talking. Which in Santana's case of course meant at first only exchanging quips, Santana finding herself surprised by the amount of sass one Wesley Montgomery, Mr. School Uniform in person for years in a row, Santana had been sure, had been able to put in every single sentence.

Wes had won Santana over in a landslide only minutes later, had even outright won the Latina's affection, when he had stood up to two guys calling Brittany stupid for, as Wes had put it, _"…no good reason at all, and clearly demonstrating they lack reason in general."_

And even though Santana is and has always been positive Brittany and her are more than capable of dealing with ignorance of any kind on their own, it is _'…a damn amazing thing,'_ to have someone with no ulterior motives stand up for you.

Because no matter how capable you are yourself, for someone to demonstrate selfless compassion so openly as Wes had done that day …, even Santana had not been able to bring herself to so much as try to diminish Wes's action by attempting to play the whole incident down with sarcasm.

Further, Santana has always admired people who can deliver a good smack down. And Wes somehow manages to deliver the most epic and eloquent ones she has ever had the pleasure of witnessing, well, except for her own, … of course. This is how she is now hoping for his help in thoroughly breaking Sebastian Smythe in any and all ways possible.

Santana has never bonded with any of the other Warblers. And she has kicked herself several times since the attack on _"…our sweet dolphins,"_ as Brittany, crying in Santana's arms last night before she had fallen asleep, had put it, for not having ever exchanged numbers with Wes.

She has left him a Facebook message with her phone number in it after finding him in Blaine's friends list in the last days, but somehow he does not seem to have seen it yet.

Already the day before, when they had talked briefly about what to do next and Kurt had insisted on taking the high road, she had wanted to mention her idea of involving Wes.

In the end she had resisted, not wanting to give false hope when not even having heard from Wes yet.

So while Jeff is still avoiding Wes's phone calls Santana is hoping to receive one, and soon.

Right now though, they are both sitting thinking, each trying to compile a mental list of _'1001 ways to kick Sebastian Smythe's ass'_, Santana admittedly much more successful though than Jeff, who finds himself still mostly confused about everything going on in his life with the Warblers right now.

They have both spent the night sleepless. Jeff alone, tossing and turning, Santana wrapped in Brittany's arms, where she can always, always, relax, this time staying tense, annoyance cursing sharp through her body.

It is annoyance with herself for not acting weeks ago, after she had first come across Smythe backstage at their opening night performance of West Side Story when she had found him hugging Blaine all too tight, and seen Kurt standing paralyzed only a few feet away, clearly pushing down tears threatening, Smythe smirking at him with perverted pleasure over Blaine's shoulder.

She had marked Smythe there and then for a beat down, lost focus when soon after her own life had been thrown into chaos with one vicious remark from Finn in hallways overcrowded.

It is annoyance, too, with the Warblers for following all so blindly a guy whose smirk that is never a smile, never holds any true affection or warmth, so clearly screams self-obsessed jerk. And Santana does know a jerk when she sees one.

And while Santana keeps mental notes of one already in her mind definite and many more possible plans to execute and some to go over with Kurt later, Jeff sits plagued with thoughts of the Warblers' midnight meeting. _'Why does no one stand up to him? Why did …, why don't I? I need to do something. I … '_

Jeff is ripped from his thoughts first by the school bell then Trent appearing next to his seat a second later, "Jeff, we need to do something. You heard him last night, he is never going to stop on his own."

"I know," Jeff bleeps, sinking a little deeper still into his seat, looking around nervously as to make sure no other Warblers are around, because frankly, apart from Trent, who had shot him a worried look already during last night's meeting, Jeff has no idea anymore where any of the other guys stand – not even Nick, which scares Jeff to no end, has him doubt everything, everyone. "I know, Trent. But what can we do?"

* * *

><p>AN: I adore the idea of a kind of connection between Santana and Wes way too much to just let that opportunity slide. Do you think I can deepen that relationship without breaking away from canon? I hope you do. Would appreciate feedback on this idea so much, because I really, really want to do it.

Thank You to all my lovely reviewers. It is a pleasure to write for you, because I do write with you and your passion for this story in mind, always.

Love, M


	11. Revenge

**Tears Stained**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: Revenge<strong>

* * *

><p>Santana knows exactly what she is going to do next. '<em>Revenge.'<em> And she has the perfect outfit picked out for it already, sure Kurt would approve of this classic _'…that is so going to throw Smythe of his game, not that he has much of that at all to begin with.'_

She is still deliberating about the perfect time to charge today, and the perfect place, when she remembers Kurt and Blaine talking about a website Wes had created for the Warblers some time ago, with all of the current rehearsal schedule on it at all times, so no one would have an excuse anymore to miss practice.

'_Thank you, Wes,' _Santana thinks to herself as she, sitting in yet another boring class, scribbles down the last details to remember so there is no chance her plan goes astray, because _'… it just can't, not this time.'_

'_Who can I ask about … right, Artie should be able to help me out with that, and I came in my car today anyway,' _"…so," she murmurs to herself while crossing two more items of the list, and adding duct tape into the mix, "I should be all set."

In the next moment Santana's phone vibrates with a new message, one she hopes to be from Wes, is surprised to find to be from Kurt:

_Won't be in school today at all, Blaine's surgery has been moved to today. Please don't do anything reckless without me, Tana. See you soon! ~ Kurt _

So Santana goes back to her pen and paper and adds to her list: _Talk to Finn about picking up Kurt for Glee later …, maybe_. Depending on how her plan really works out in the end.

Now that she has figured out a plan there is no way she is just letting this go, especially since she is certain even Kurt would classify what she has planned as the highest of roads.

'_Only a couple of hours,'_ Santana tires to focus on that simple fact, in just hours she will get her revenge for Smythe messing with Kurt and Blaine, long overdue, and endlessly provoked.

"The Twink is going down."

xxxx

Trying to make the best use possible of their free period, Jeff and Trent have made their way to Jeff's room, a room he had last shared with Kurt the previous school year. It can get lonely at times, right now though Jeff is really glad he does not have to worry about a room-mate bursting in at any moment.

"So what now?" Jeff says flopping down onto his bed, letting out a deep sigh, "… because frankly I really don't want to be around that guy. I think I …, if he isn't gone soon, I might just leave the Warblers."

"No," Trent almost shouts. "You can't just…, we can't just quit!"

"I wish it was just last year again and Blaine, Wes and Kurt were with us instead of all those new guys," Jeff whispers teary-eyed.

"I know," Trent replies heaving a sigh. "But they aren't so, we need to find another way to save our group from self-destruction, by …, by …."

"Someone needs to keep an eye on Smythe, that's for sure. I can't believe he has give out orders to help him slushy as many of the New Directions as possible," Jeff says.

Trent is shaking his head, "I can't believe he has given out orders for anything. Who does he think he is? Calling himself our Captain. What does he think _we_ are, his Star Trek crew or something?"

"I know."

"Yeah."

Trent joining Jeff on his bed they sit in silence for a good while, thinking.

When Jeff finally speaks up again it is with a small smile on his lips, Trent notices it in surprise as he turns to look at Jeff, "I think I got it, Trent. How about …."

Trent listens, his own smile growing wider, to Jeff's plan.

"You know what, I think that could actually work even better than we dare hope for."

"I know," Jeff replies smiling brightly for the first time since Tuesday night.


	12. Memories Green

**Disclaimer: **Only the umpf in here is mine, all else belongs to whomever it belongs *smiles*

**A/N: **

So today we return to Kurt and Blaine. I have been missing them.

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve: Memories Green<strong>

* * *

><p>It is almost 10am on this Thursday morning in Lima, Ohio. And while Wes spends his last minutes in an airplane seat - feeling like an object trapped in a time capsule waiting to be rediscovered by someone who still holds him dear after all this time, hopefully - time after breakfast in Lima, that just ended twenty minutes ago, has begun to speed up for Blaine and Kurt in an almost alarming manner.<p>

Finally more relaxed after a complicated start to the day, they had struggled to hold on to that feeling rushing back to the hospital, thinking they would be late, so late – Kurt in the car quickly sending Santana a brief text letting her know he won't be in school today, almost begging her to please not try anything reckless without him there to, well, basically be her Jiminy Cricket. They had arrived, in the end, just about, what they had thought to be, in time, only to discover Blaine's mother had gotten it wrong, once again, and Blaine is not needed at the hospital for another hour. And Kurt wishes he had thought to at least try and check with someone at the hospital again before having Blaine suffer through an additional hour of misery in the white-washed halls of this dreaded building.

Kurt and Blaine are both still feeling a little nauseous and unhinged and could not be more grateful that Carole and Burt are still here with them, every step of the way over the next hours, literally.

In waiting-rooms, in hallways in front of operating-rooms, in the recovery room when Blaine wakes up, left hand already held by Kurt in both of his, Blaine already squeezing back before he finds the energy to open his one uncovered eye or say a single word.

Hearing Kurt's relieved exclamation, "He is squeezing my hand, he is waking up, Mom," Carole rushes over. And so Blaine opens his eyes to Carole and Kurt smiling at him.

Hearing Blaine croak out a, "Hey," his throat dry, Kurt asks, "Would you like some ice chips? The nurses have shown me where I can get them."

Blaine nods with a grateful smile, still groggy.

And while Kurt leaves for a moment Carole moves to place a kiss to Blaine's forehead, and affectionately squeezes Blaine's hands as she says gently, "I am so happy you are coming home with us, _so_ happy."

Kurt comes back a moment later to find Blaine close to tears, emotional with exhaustion strong, and Carole running a hand again and again over Blaine's hair, repeating over and over, "It's okay. We're here for you."

Someone wanting to be anywhere for him, _'…for me,'_ it is still hard for Blaine to comprehend.

Carole moves back to Burt, who is sitting in a chair a couple of feet away, as Kurt reclaims the space right next to Blaine on his bed.

"Here, Baby," Kurt whispers as he holds up a single ice chip between two fingers and slowly lifts them up to Blaine's lips.

Blaine gratefully parts his lips and sucks the cooling piece of water from between Kurt's fingers into his mouth, as soon as it has melted whispering "Thank you," to Kurt, asking a moment later, voice still rough, "My lips are so dry, could you …."

Kurt is leaning over Blaine a split-second later, pressing their lips together, carefully tracing along Blaine's lips with his tongue almost instantly, longing for undeniable reassurance they are both here, and a big part of what both of them dreaded so much over.

Blaine parts his lips on instinct, the kiss deepening, Blaine almost hungrily absorbing the loving warmth his boyfriend offers, that is until both of them remember Kurt's parents are still very much with them in the room.

Blaine cannot help but simply smile as he watches Kurt draw back a little, scrunching his eyes shut in the most adorable way and already beginning to blush, his skin only turning a deeper reddish shade of pink as Kurt turns around to glance at his mom and dad, who Blaine, looking past Kurt's left, is no longer surprised to find smiling, almost grinning as all of them, in a room so quiet, hear Blaine say softly, "I actually just meant you could trace my lips with an ice chip, but I guess that worked just fine as well."

"Okay," Kurt squeaks only blushing deeper, turning his gaze to his own lap for a short moment - in which he is holding Blaine's left hand wrapped in his own two once again now - trying to regain at least the appearance of composure.

Carole walks over and places one more kiss each to the boys' foreheads, which has Kurt looking back up, "I'll be on my way home then, prepare some things for tonight, and your dad will stay with you, and bring you two home later."

Blaine's heart jumps at the word, _'Home.'_ "Thank you, Carole."

"Yeah, thank you, Mom. For everything. Wait! How are you getting home without the car?"

Carole offers one more warm smile to both of them as she explains, "We came with two cars this morning, just in case," and slinging her handbag over her shoulder and waving goodbye she makes her way to the door.

As soon as the door has closed behind her, Blaine's and Kurt's focus returns to each other, Kurt kicking off his shoes and fully climbing up on the hospital bed now he had sat on already, snuggling into his boyfriend's side, as he had the night of the attack.

They soon fall into a deep sleep, and Burt does not get a chance to ask Blaine how the pain is now, but he assumes much more bearable than this morning when Blaine had to stay off painkillers till the operation itself.

Burt does not really mind the unanswered questions though, or the quiet they come wrapped in, not right now. _'There'll be time for questions later.'_ For now watching his boys able to find happiness with each other even in all of this chaos is _'… more than I could have wished for.' _

So Burt is left sitting here, waiting, thinking back to this morning's events, after they had met up in the hospital's parking lot – turning his memories over and over again, maybe secretly or subconsciously still looking for answers.

While Wes had sat on the airplane, fighting with himself to not forget and to not remember and do that right, with all the right parts, the small booth in the café, not too close to the hospital Blaine had dreaded reentering all morning, had lain in silence. Coffees and teas being sipped quietly, the steam evaporating from them had for a long time remained the only motion visible at the table the four of them had sat at, for, in the end, around one and a half hours.

They had ordered their drinks about entering and taken them with them to the quietest looking booth at the row of high windows running along the front of the large room, after a moment all beginning to take their first sips, eyes fixed on breakfast menus – Carole holding, unnoticed by the boys Burt's hand in a reassuring grip under the table. Burt had been nervous all morning about this meeting, about the boys' state of mind today.

Kurt and Blaine nervous as well had immediately started dealing with their nerves their very own way, sharing an extra-large cup of latte, the rim of the cup covered in sugar and cinnamon; shared kisses too towards the end of the meal, tasting sweet, tasting reassuringly strong … of love.

The café, deliberately picked by Burt for being a good while, at least twenty minutes by car, away from the hospital, had not been very busy this Thursday morning. And Burt, even though the boys' nerves lying raw had been obvious from the get go, had kept hoping this quiet and the distance from all the places and people dreaded by Blaine and Kurt, would in the end allow them to truly relax for a short while at least.

Burt had wanted to ask Blaine about the pain ever since Blaine had had buried himself in his arms in the hospital's parking lot – remembering the previous days' events, remembering Blaine's mother all too well, _'… and who could forget her.'_

In the end Burt had held back, unsure if then and there could ever have been the time and place to bring up anything potentially upsetting – Burt trying to avoid new aggravation, new and more pain for his family.

Finally, eventually, menus put aside, and tired but grateful smiles exchanged with Burt and Carole, sitting directly opposite them, Blaine had tried hard to concentrate on whatever it was Kurt had begun to say to his parents, but he quickly had found himself slipping back deep into thought as he had been on the drive over here – Kurt's hand holding his not only a welcome but much needed anchor.

And while Wes had been sitting alone, lost in thought, too, in a metal tube shooting through the skies, Kurt and Blaine had sat close, closer than they usually do in a public place, both far too exhausted to care about, or even notice most of, the handful of looks thrown their way – people not able to effortlessly blend back into a current of disapproval, hate, their stares blatantly obvious in this empty a space.

Frankly, Carole and Burt had done an amazing job staring the ignorance down, almost daring people to try one more look like that in a place with a rainbow flag in the window.

'_I wish acceptance, appreciation even, and love could keep ignorance out,'_ Carole had found herself thinking, will later tonight share this thought with Burt, who will bury his head in her shoulder and cry all his disappointment with this world thoroughly out. Being strong for each other builds the trust needed to allow oneself to be open with each other, it is a strength – tears shared are a strength, not a weakness.

Blaine after a while noticing what had been going on, had not known whether to burst with happiness or into tears himself, always aware at the back of his mind that his mother would be one of those giving the nastiest looks, supposed to make him, _'… us,'_ feel worthless and pathetic, worst of all, _'… inhuman.'_

She has done it to him many times, keeps doing it. Kurt has only seen the tip of the iceberg so far, and Blaine hopes more than anything that, when he has his strength back, he will be able to keep it that way.

This too, wanting to protect Kurt from having to ever experience the full extent of one of his mother's episodes, is the reason relief had replaced pain so quickly as he had learned the previous night that, once again, his mother would not be sticking around to care for him. '_Not that she has ever cared about me.' _

The thoughts, dark, had kept playing over in his head, all morning, and the more they had the more it had hurt.

And so Blaine had missed the much more important looks this morning, exchanged between Burt and Kurt, filled to the brim with the wish to find a way to make Blaine feel loved as much as he truly is by them. And Blaine had missed, too, Carole fighting with her instinct to reach out and take Kurt's and his intertwined hands in hers, to comfort, to sooth the pain away.

Blaine had still stared absentmindedly at the blank, polished table surface when the waitress had come by, had missed her greeting and questions, missed Burt and Carole ordering their food.

Burt had smiled warmly at his son when Kurt had stepped in instantly and ordered for himself … and Blaine as well.

"He'll have a croissant too, and can we have two cranberry-apple-grapefruit juices?

"Sure," the short, slim woman, Kurt had assumed to be in her late fifties, with short bleach blond hair and big brown eyes, had smiled at Kurt not even seeming startled in the least by the two boys before her holding hands on the table.

"Thank you." And Kurt had said it in a way, the woman with the nametag _Hazel_ which Kurt had only noticed then, had known it was about more than taking a customer's order.

With another smile, eyes briefly flickering to the, to her, sad-looking boy with the eye-patch before her, and then back to the boy she had just spoken to, Hazel had added, "If you need anything else just let me know when I bring your food."

Kurt had only been able to nod this time, lump lodged in his throat, _'It feels so good, being treated like a person for once, by a complete stranger,' _it had beenoverwhelming too, especially today.

Kurt all the while had kept holding Blaine's right hand securely in his own left. The loving gesture saying all, meaning so much, to both of them, '_I'm here. You are not alone,' –_ this knowledge made tangible in the, to the outside world, so simple looking gesture, all that had kept Blaine from a complete breakdown right there and then.

Blaine had noted the arrival of the food, but feeling his stomach turn at the mere sight he had almost jumped up, startling Kurt and Hazel alike, who had returned to the food counter only a moment later, having enough sensibility in her body to know that this had to be personal.

"Sorry, bathroom," Blaine had muttered eye already fixed on the floor, …

… only looking up briefly at Kurt's next words. "Love, I'll…."

"No, Kurt. Please. I need a moment."

"But if you need h…."

"Kurt, please, just … just let me go." And Blaine had almost looked like he had been about to cry again. And Kurt had known he probably ought to put it down to the exhaustion they both had been feeling all morning already, but that had been so much easier thought than done.

So Kurt, in the end, simply had nodded, had held in the fear filled sigh until the bathroom door had swung shut behind Blaine, having given him only a warm smile on the way with him.

For Burt hearing the sigh had been confirmation enough that the black barely detectible under Kurt's eyes without practice is not a fashion statement at all, _'some days, yes, but not …, not today.'_ So Burt had seized the opportunity.

"Eyeliner? Kurt."

"I know. Not fooling anyone. Well, not _you_ anyway," Kurt had let out another sigh.

His head had hung until he had heard Carole's voice, "I'm missing something, right?"

Carole had still been looking back and forth between her step-son and his father when Burt, sitting directly opposite his son, after one last glance at Carole, had taken Kurt's hands both in his own, frowning at how cold they had been, and beginning to rub some life back into them had started "Kurt tried to …."

"It works, Dad," Kurt had interrupted fixing his eyes on his dad.

Burt had stared right back at his son, eyebrows raised.

"And I always thought you got that look from your mom," Carole had said through an obvious smile.

Kurt letting out a scoffing laugh had replied with a frown turned into a half-smile already, eyes locked with Burt's still, "No. Dad first gave me that Really-Kurt-Really? look every time I showed up at the breakfast table in heels for a whole month when I was six."

"You remember that?" Burt had asked, expression turning soft and hands rubbing with more love and less vigor along Kurt's hands still wrapped in his.

Kurt had nodded smiling softly, then, "Yeah, I remember. I used to go ask mom if they matched my clothes and she just said _'You can wear whatever you want, Sweetheart, as long as it makes you happy.'_ And I remember being a pain in the ass back then already and asking her back every time, _'But do they match?'_ And she would just smile more and say, _'Kurt, Sweety…_ "

"…_they match your personality perfectly_," Burt had finished the statement with a wide smile of his own.

"Yeah," Kurt had agreed, swallowing a lump building in his throat, eyes then fixed on the table alone again. "I wish she was here now. Sorry, Carole."

"It's okay. I understand."

"You are great, Carole, but…."

"But?" Carole had prompted softly.

"You are so so great Carole, I just wish, with Blaine's mother being as she is, Blaine could have seen how accepting my mom was with me."

Burt had taken a deep breath, before he had coaxed Kurt into looking back up at him with a warm squeeze to his hands. "Kurt. The eyeliner though …, I just don't want you to feel like you have to pretend. Not with me, … with us. Not ever. I get that you need your personal space but trying to block us out like this …."

Kurt had caved in then, "Okay, then let me rephrase: It helps me, Dad. That I can convince myself it works, helps me to not break down in front of you, … in front of Blaine. He does not need that today, Dad. Okay?" Kurt had almost sounded desperate then, looked so close to tears Burt had been able to feel his son's ache.

"I just want you to know, you, both of you, don't have to keep it …, keep anything, in. I know this must all be confusing. I know Blaine is the one who is about to have surgery …."

Kurt had cut his dad off with a sentence followed by a sob, "He is trying to play it down but I know, Dad, I just know, I can feel it …, he is in so much pain, Dad."

"Kurt, Son, I don't want you to pretend you are not hurting too, because I can tell you are, eyeliner or not."

Burt glancing over to Carole had caught her still confused expression so gone on, "Whenever he is especially exhausted, this one here tries to cover it up by drawing attention to his eyes, away from the paler than usual skin. Eyeliner, not a fashion statement for once. And it is so little hardly anyone notices anyway."

"It does distract," Kurt had swallowed hard, "… help, I mean. It helps!" Kurt had still tried for convincing, had failed miserably.

And had Blaine been with him right then he would have pointed out the slight pout that only ever surfaces when Kurt wants something, badly, very badly, or Kurt knows of the pointlessness of an action he cannot help, too much habit laced into it. Kurt has used eyeliner like this for years, has himself convinced it works for him.

Burt had tried hard for softness to his tone, "Kiddo, only with people who don't know you, or don't care to look properly."

"Or are groggy and have been drugged out of their mind for the last 36 hours."

Kurt had jumped as he had heard Blaine's voice coming from behind him, then whispered in an almost inaudibly low tone, "Please don't be mad at me."

Burt remembers it all too clear still right now, sitting in the hospital's recovery room of his son's boyfriend, the fear on his son's face, fear that he might have done it, done something that has him deserve to be loved less by one of the handful people whose love means everything to him.

There is no trace of that fear on Kurt's face now, no anger or confusion on either boy's face. It had not been that simple for them this morning. And Burt wishes for them more than anything, to grow, together, to fully understand how much they deserve to be loved with all their flaws, with all their insecurities, that the understanding that comes from truly living with those, openly, allows them to love this deeply.

* * *

><p>AN: Burt kind of, okay, totally hijacked that last part, I hope you don't mind. I have been missing him and Carole too.

Blaine's full reaction is coming up next chapter. I hope you thoroughly enjoyed this chapter. It is my favorite in a long time, I think. What can I say, I am a sucker for these four interacting, and how do you feel about my OC _Hazel_? I love the name.


	13. Catching Up To Do

**A/N: **I know this is super short. Writing on the original, much longer, chapter thirteen – which is now chapter fourteen and hopefully very soon finished and to come – I realized it feels so right to publish this part separately, yes this short, really, because I think it is a really important point for Kurt and Blaine in this story and it is just this really amazing moment between them, to me, which I want to stand on its own. Hope you agree and love.

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen: Catching Up To Do<strong>

* * *

><p>Kurt's whole expression had gone alert with fear as his eyes had kept darting back and forth between Carole and Burt, begging for … he himself had not known what.<p>

The last time Burt remembers having seen this look on his boy's face had been when … _'I had given him the sex talk,'_ Burt thinks shaking his head, a smile playing on his lips as the two boys in the hospital bed continue to sleep, molded into each other's warmth completely.

This morning, sitting back down next to Kurt, who had had his eyes pinned firmly to the table before him, Blaine had, at first, only allowed their sides to touch tenderly, trying to avoid startling his boyfriend any further slipping back into the booth right next to him.

After a moment more had passed, cupping Kurt's left cheek gently – knowing Kurt hardly ever can resist leaning into the touch so loving, so openly encouraging, much more than questioning – Blaine had carefully coaxed Kurt into looking over, right at him.

And then Blaine had seen it all … clear for the first time since the attack, all Kurt had been feeling, fighting, for days now – the pain, the fear, the dread and desperation, all Kurt had fought to hold back, hold in, away from Blaine, not to deceive him in any way but to help, in the hope of helping _'…me'_ somehow.

And Blaine lightly shaking his head had said, "Kurt, this is about both of us. This is us, not me or you, … us."

"I'm so sorry," Kurt had choked out, "I did'nt try to hide anything from you, I just, I didn't want you to worry more than you already do. Especially not today. There's enough happening already. I wanted you not to hurt more. I don't want you to hurt."

With the last sentence tears of utter exhaustion had begun to run over Kurt's still moving lips, settling into a, to Blaine, heartbreaking tremble.

Blaine's hand, without hesitation, had wandered from cheek to lips and, thumb tracing Kurt's lips, had brushed the tears away softly. "No, I know. What do you think why I threw myself in front of you, Kurt."

Blaine's lips gently brushing against Kurt's had a moment later offered comfort, taken, eased away, the last sting of salt, and replaced it with the sweet taste of cinnamon and sugar still clinging to Blaine's lips.


	14. As the day goes by

**A/N: **

Hi :)

I have been doing this on _Getting Away _for a good while so I decided to start it here too, answering reviewers at the beginning of the next chapter. I hope you like the idea:

**Eraman: **I know it has been a long time. I hope it does not have you enjoy the update any less.

**Sarahamanda Klaine: **It always makes me smile to hear you enjoy reading what I came up with. Thank you!

**Sissi Parker: **I dearly hope you like the more I came up with so far.

**Faithful Cherry Blossom: **I had been working for some days on a new chapter when I received your review yesterday. It was a big surprise, considering I have not updated in months, and it was so encouraging to hear your words. And I love so much that my portrayal of Kurt and Blaine's relationship can make you happy. Because that is how it felt reading your words, and that was amazing! Thank You! :) M

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen: As the day goes by<strong>

* * *

><p>Kurt's phone goes off while he lies on the hospital bed with Blaine, both asleep.<p>

Burt is the one to pick it up to prevent the music, filling the room already, from disturbing the boys' sleep.

No one has called though, it is a text, well, it is three. Two sent just now, and having the phone go off at the same time, one a little older, and Burt wonders how they missed it while sitting in the diner this morning, but gosh is he glad they had. "What is that guy doing texting my son?" Burt grumbles lowly, whole face already set into a frown.

Usually Burt would respect his son's privacy, no questions, well, not many questions asked. Today is an exception though, Burt is sure Kurt will want to know about the texts he has been sent if they are urgent. And there is only one way to find out for Burt.

He opens up the first, clearly stated to have been sent by Wes, and Burt hopes full of good news. Burt has heard Blaine, drugged up keeping asking Kurt, again and again, for Wes today, and _'They need some good news'_: _Kurt, hey:)My plane has landed a while ago and I am on my way to my parents' right now. Just stopping for a coffee in a cosy cafe. Can you remind me of the exact way to your house once I enter Lima from the Westerville direction. It has been a while, after all. And I don't want to take a wrong turn by accident. Thank you! I love you guys. I think I'll be there around seven tonight. Love, Wes_

Burt smiles at the fondness he can clearly find in the lines Wes has sent. _'That's good. Good,'_ he thinks, sighing in relief.

Santana has texted too just now: _Kurt, need u school for Glee. Sending Finn to pick u up in a while. _

That is not a text making Burt particularly happy, he just does not like the idea of Kurt being out of his sight too long today, but he can live with _'Santana being Santana.'_ He is used to the girl's ways these days. She has been spending a lot of time around their home after all, ever since her coming out, feeling safe around Blaine and Kurt in ways she still struggles to with others, Burt suspects.

The third text though, the third one is a whole different story. It is from a guy called Smythe, and three days ago Burt would have had no idea who that even is, today, today it is all different. Burt's hands are getting shaky when he moves to open the text. He has never in his life talked to or even seen that boy, he does not need to to know this cannot be good:

_Hey gay-face, cried enough to come and face me already? We're not done yet, we're nowhere near done. _

Burt sits there, staring at the text for five more minutes, "That guy is threatening my son. That guy actually has the never to threaten my son, after all he already did."

"Dad?" Kurt sits up, still groggy with sleep, his father's deep voice having intruded his sleep.

"Kurt, hey."

"What are you doing with my phone?"

"It ... went off a moment ago, I didn't want to wake you if it wasn't important. Don't be mad, please, but I read the texts you got."

Kurt is still groggily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when he gets up and walks over on his socked feet, "It's okay, Dad. I know you are just trying to help."

As they stand hugging Burt's thumb is still hovering over the delete button to that last read text. _'He does not need that extra pain.'_

"Kiddo," Burt starts as they stand with each other, not hugging anymore, the grief filled sigh Burt says it with has Kurt on edge in seconds.

"Is it Blaine? Is something, oh gosh, did something go wrong? Was his doctor here while I was asleep?"

"Shh, shh, no, no Kurt," Burt says taking one of Kurt's hands and tightly squeezing it. "Blaine is doing great, a nurse was here twenty minutes ago. She said he is doing just fine, and we can go home as soon as he feels less drowsy and tired."

Kurt lets out a deep breath, eyes squeezing shut and tears spilling over, "Oookay. But Dad, what's wrong? Something's wrong."

"Smythe texted you."

Kurt has his phone back in his hands in a flash and is reading. Burt can see his eyes going wide, and new tears spilling already as he hears the small, "Oh."

Kurt sounds exhausted, so empty of fight.

"Kurt, you don't have to be scared ..."

Kurt breaks his father off, "It's not that."

"What is it?" Burt asks softly.

Kurt's still tear-filled eyes find his father's as he looks up from the phone's screen. "I just don't know what he wants from us. I don't know how to make him stop. I just want him to stop!"

Kurt is back in Burt's arms within seconds, and Burt can feel his soon shaking with all of these last days having been far too much to take.

"Forget about hat idiot for now, okay? We'll figure something out. But not today. Today is about Blaine and you, and hey, Wes texted, he landed and he just needs to stop by at his parents', and he said he'll be at our place around seven. He can stay with us if he wants to, you know. I can text him and tell him he can stay with us while he is here. Sounds good, right?"

Kurt nods into his father's chest.

"We'll figure it all out in time," Burt hums as he leads Kurt back to the bed. "You catch some more shut-eye. I'll do the texting. I love you."

"Love you too," Kurt whispers back, tears slowly subsiding now, finally.

Burt steps out into the hall for a moment to text Wes directions and their invitation to stay with them for some days. He is so tempted to text that Smythe guy too, give him a piece of his mind, but as he had said to Kurt, _'Today is not about that jerk.' _So Burt turns back to Santana's text instead, answering.

Burt: _Hey, this is Burt, Kurt's dad. Do you really need him at Glee today. He is exhausted. _

It only takes a minute for Burt to receive an answer.

Santana: _I promise it's not going to take long. It's good news too. I'll bring him home after myself. _

Burt: _Okay. I'll let him know. When will Finn be here?_

Santana: _In about an hour. _

Burt: _Please keep it brief. He's not ..., he needs to be with Blaine today. _

Santana: _Thank you for understanding, Mr. Hummel._

Burt cannot ignore the feeling that this text is about much more than the stuff going on right now.

Burt: _No problem. See you later. _

Santana: _Later._

Just when he is done texting with Santana, a text from Wes comes in: _Thank you so much for offering me a bed in your home. I appreciate it so much, and gratefully accept. I really want to be there for Blaine as much as I can while I'm here. Thank you so so much for making it easier for me. Kindest regards, Wesley_

Burt has to smile at the warmth he can feel interlaced with Wesley's polite words.

Burt wants to cry when he thinks about Blaine and Kurt having been used to and having been comforted by the Warblers once having been a group guided by someone so gentle and warm, _'... and now ...,' _now everything is different, so different.

And Sebastian, "That Smythe guy has something else coming if he thinks he can keep talking to my son like that," Burt mumbles to himself as he re-enters the hospital room.

After this the day just flies by.

Kurt is startled at first by Finn coming to pick him up, even more startled when he finds out at school what Santana has been up too, angry when he finds out Santana has been slushied too, thankful she cares so very much about Blaine and him. But he would not be Kurt is he could not pull himself together in a flash, a skill well developed through all the years of bullying.

Kurt will only let go again tonight, of all the tension packed away in himself, and the tears and frustration. This afternoon he leads the Glee club into a brief practice session, onto his highroad. A path he can only hope will lead to something, anything when it comes to Smythe. A path he hopes the friends he still dares to hope he has in the Warblers, still, are willing to take with him.

Kurt feels the urge to break down, the need to let go and just fall to pieces right there on the auditorium's stage. He does not, of course.

Kurt goes on and on and on, like a battery operated bunny, and then he goes home. Well, Santana drives him, as she had promised, and he showers and puts on some fresh clothes before he drives himself back to the hospital, telling Santana he would rather have her keep Carole some company because he hated leaving his step-mom alone all the time today.

When Kurt re-enters his boyfriend's hospital room Blaine is sitting fully dressed on his bed, Burt just packing up the last of their things brought along in case Blaine had to stay over night for some reason, complications do happen – they have not though, not today.

It is strange, painful, to Kurt, seeing Blaine like this. Blaine who is always so full over energy. It is not that Blaine sitting here right now.

Kurt slowly walks over, and wordlessly sits down next to his boyfriend, pressing a kiss to Blaine's temple and giving him a shoulder to lean on, which Blaine accepts with a big sigh and a smile.

Packing, leaving the hospital, and finally making it home again, it is a quiet affair – quiet being something all three men can deeply appreciate today, treasure really.

They are greeted by Carole and Santana, staying for dinner now, when they enter the Hummels' kitchen.

Santana too is really quiet tonight. Having watched Kurt struggle through the whole of his stay at school today to stay focused and properly awake, she feels the need to be here for Kurt and Blaine, and she is; cuddling up with Blaine on the couch so Kurt can get some super comfortable clothes for Blaine to slip into before dinner and taking a moment to do so himself; promising to get them both their school work the next week, while Burt has allowed Kurt to stay at home with Blaine, he himself and Carole needing to be at work, and no one wanting for Blaine to have to be alone.

Blaine had wanted to but in the end cannot bring himself to get any of the macaroni dinner down his throat.

When he tries to apologize to Carole she just waves it off, "Sweety, don't worry. I'll just give some to Santana to take home with her to her family. And I am sure Finn will take care of the rest. And I also made some soup for you, just in case. Maybe you can try some of that."

"Carole, you are amazing," Blaine whispers back, exhaustion still clear in his every feature. And Blaine does eat the soup, and finally with something warm in his belly, he almost falls asleep right there at the table.

Burt is the one insisting on scooping him up and carrying him up the stairs to Kurt's room, Kurt with them every step, but grateful his dad insisted on Kurt not doing it himself, Blaine does not need to be dropped and add a concussion to an injured, painfully throbbing eye.

The full extent of his own exhaustion hits Kurt when he drops to the bed beside Blaine, and not two minutes later both boys lie asleep on the covers, Burt half pulling the door to Kurt's room close behind himself as he leaves them cuddled up under a blanket he just got form the hallway wardrobe and placed carefully over them.

They do not hear the doorbell ringing twenty-two minutes later, nor Burt welcoming a young man, "You must be Wes," into their home.


	15. Is it me you're looking for?

**A/N: **Yes, I am actually and definitly back with this story. The updates this time around will be much more regular. I hope a lot of my original readership is still with me. I have missed getting to write for you.

xo M

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

**Chapter 15: Is It Me You're Looking For?**

* * *

><p>It is shortly before midnight when Kurt tiptoes downstairs. He knows people must still be awake, and Santana must have been invited to stay the night since he can among other voices clearly make out hers coming from the living room.<p>

Kurt is not too keen on being noticed at all, wanting to spend as little time as possible apart from Blaine, 'He could wake up from a nightmare any time.' It is Kurt's worst fear right now.

Seconds later he is in the kitchen filling two glasses with water to take upstairs, and grabbing a chocolate bar from a cupboard, 'Now that I'm awake I might as well watch over Blaine properly for a while,' and the sugar will help with that, staying awake.

When Kurt turns back around from the cupboard, the already half eaten chocolate bar sticking out of his mouth he is faced with "Wes!"

The other boy had entered the kitchen while Kurt was in the middle of rummaging around in the cupboard and had tried to avoid startling him and so just waited for Kurt to notice he is there too.

Kurt throws what remains of the chocolate bar down on the counter and takes the steps left between them pulling Wes into a fierce hug, "You're here. I'd completely forgotten. Oh gosh. And your hair, when did you grow it out like that?"

Wes just shrugs as Kurt pulls back, "Just felt right. I forgot you were hardly ever there when Blaine and I skyped, then you'd have known I started letting it grow out a while ago. It's so good to see you," Wes adds, pulling Kurt back into another hug.

"You too," Kurt hiccups as he starts crying harder than he has allowed himself all day. "You too, Wes."

Wes does not say anything, does not shush Kurt or tell him everything will be just fine.

Kurt has always loved Wes for that, honesty, and compassion. No false hope or promises, just help – as good as Wes can give it – comfort too.

So Kurt cries on for minutes more, brings out between the few sobs escaping his mouth "I have to get back to Blaine, soon."

"Can I come? I know he is asleep, but ..."

"Sure, come on," Kurt answers, much more composed again already, wiping once more over his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt before he pops the rest of the chocolate bar into his mouth and picks up the two glasses of water.

As they pass the living room again they briefly stop there. Kurt finds Carole and Burt as well as Santana and Finn still awake. "When did you get here?" Kurt asks Finn.

"I was invited to Rachel's for dinner. Dude, she totally ended up hating me being there. All her dads wanted to talk about was Blaine and gay on gay crime. They practically forgot her for about an hour. I don't think she liked that very much."

Burt cannot hold back the snort. "Sorry. But maybe that's not the worst for the girl to experience once in a while."

Carole elbows him, but as he looks over she is biting back a smile as well.

"I just wanted to say I'm taking Wes upstairs with me."

Burt frowns, "I thought Blaine is asleep. Somethin' wrong, Kiddo?"

"No, no, Dad, he was fast asleep when I snuck downstairs. It's just, Wes would like to see him, and I really could ..., Wes being there, he has been there for Blaine a whole lot before we ever met and if Blaine should wake up ..., I just want to do what I can to make him feel better. And Wes being close has always ever only made him feel better. You know?"

Burt gets up handing Wes his duffle bag from its place beside the couch on the living room floor, "Here. Kurt can show you the guest room if you want to have a proper lie down."

"Thank you."

Wes's answer is almost drowned out by Santana's "Not fair, where do I sleep then?"

"The couch, Tana?" Kurt says eyebrows raised. "Wes will be here for some days, right?" Kurt looks at Wes for confirmation.

"I might be able to stay till Monday or even Tuesday.

"See, so he gets the room," Kurt turns back to Santana.

Wes smiles past Burt and Kurt at her, "I don't mind sharing the bed for one night."

"I'm gay, just so you know, no funny business will go down," Santana throws his way.

"Santana," Wes smiles at her, "One, I will probably be with Kurt for most of the time, looking out for Blaine, and two, I've known you and Brittany are a couple since we ran into each other at the mall. Remember?"

"How?" Santana asks, defensive but maybe even more so curious.

"You cannot fake or cover up the way you looked at her and the way she never stopped looking at you," Wes says walking over and giving Santana a hug.

"Okay," she only whispers back, surprised but hugging back a moment later.

"Good," Wes softly replies.

After saying goodnight to everyone they make their way upstairs.

"How bad is it really?" Wes asks before getting the door for Kurt, still holding the two glasses of water.

"He is feeling much better than yesterday, but when the painkillers wear off once in a while it still gets too much. And he just hates to be left alone, with the pain sometimes coming back that sudden, so I am so happy you are here now. So so happy."

"Anytime," Wes answers a teary-eyed Kurt before pushing down the door handle.

With the first steps into the only dimly lit room, Kurt had left on a nightlight before going downstairs, Kurt and Wes enter the quiet surrounding the boy asleep on the bed and now hogging the blanket he is lying under, drawing in the last of Kurt's body warmth still clinging to it.

Wes can hardly believe how much of a relief he feels it to be, finally getting to see Blaine again in person.


	16. Double Acts

**Tears Stained**

**Chapter 16: Double Acts**

* * *

><p>Wes wakes up the next morning curled into someone else's side, it feels for a moment like he is back in his childhood bedroom with Ty after an evening of storytelling turning into a whole night, and the two of them falling asleep, eventually, in the early hours of the new day, cuddled close.<p>

When Wes, limbs stirring, opens his eyes he finds a smiling Kurt looking at him. "Hey. This okay?"

Kurt keeps smiling, nods, "Thank you for staying the night."

"No problem," Wes smiles back. A slight frown crosses his face when he asks, "Is he still asleep? And have you slept at all?"

"Yeah, just woke up a moment ago. And he is still asleep. The heavier pain meds he is getting now, the first few days after the operation, must have knocked him right out." Looking back at the curly-haired boy sleeping on his other side Kurt adds, "If he is out much longer though we might have to wake him so he can take some more. How late is it?"

"Ten to nine," Wes supplies with a quick glance at the clock standing on the bedside table.

"Yeah, the meds are supposed to wear off in the next hour or so," Kurt replies wearily.

"Does he have to eat before he takes the pills?"

"Ideally. Although it has been hard getting him to eat anything much the past days since it happened."

Wes careful not to wake Blaine slips off the bed, "Can I try and make him something for breakfast?"

"Sure," Kurt replies, surprised by the offer but happy to give anything a shot.

"You stay here and I get everything ready. It won't take long."

"Thanks, Wes."

"Really no problem at all," Wes says heading towards the door.

Not twenty minutes later Wes comes back with three big glasses, and three drinking straws, putting them down on the table turns already again, "I'll be back in a second."

The next time he reenters the room he has a big pitcher in his hand Kurt recognizes as the one belonging to their mixer. It is filled with a creamy looking substance, gleaming in a delicious orangey color, streaks of white still visible in parts.

"Smoothies?" Kurt beams at him.

"Mango-Orange. I hope the cold won't be a problem," Wes adds, looking concerned.

But Kurt shakes his head in reassurance, "It's fine. We will just have to make him go slow, you know how he is capable of gulping down anything in seconds, regardless of technically still too hot or too cold."

Wes smiles wide, "I do. Once, playing truth or dare someone challenged him to an ice-cream eating contest and …."

"… ice-cream eating contest? What are you talking about," Blaine absentmindedly rubs at his healthy eye, only to hiss at the sting send by the simple movement through all his face. "Au."

"Babe?" Kurt asks, taking Blaine's hand gently in his own.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Blaine adds still mumbling sleepily, "Stupid pain meds have worn off again. Maybe we could instead try another orgasm to …."

"Blaine!" Kurt cuts him off eyes wide.

Wes just stands there biting back a smile. Blaine has always done that, mumbled things without first thinking right after waking up. In fact, that is how Wes has come to learn most of the boy's little secrets, some big ones too.

"What?" Blaine asks confused by Kurt's tone, usually he laughs at '… remarks like …', only now does Blaine register fully that Kurt had most definitely not been talking to himself.

Blaine sits up entirely too fast not to end up feeling dizzy. He has to force the focus a bit, his eye still unadjusted to the new intrusion of sunlight, but there the person he had hoped for stands, beside the bed, "Wes!" It is a cry of joy and suppressed pain alike, instantly followed by a sob the tears - already bubbling up underneath the surface of the boy in his PJs, hair a wild mess of curls - are pushing forward, "Wes."

Even the pain shooting anew through his body at all the agitation cannot stop Blaine from jumping out of the bed and running around it to throw himself in Wes's arms. He is sobbing harder than Kurt had last night as soon as he feels Wes's arms closing around him. "Wes. Wes."

"I'm here," Wes reassures holding Blaine tight to his chest. "I'm here, Blaine. It's okay. It's okay," Wes keeps up the soothing whisper as Blaine continues to sob his heart out.

Once Blaine has grown quiet in his arms, minutes later, Wes asks, "Still need more pain meds, right?"

"Not letting go," Blaine murmurs back into Wes's shoulder, where he is resting his left cheek, pain from the pressure on his face be damned, 'I got you back.'

"Babe, you'll have to let go of him again some time," Kurt softly says, getting up from his place on the bed to stand with the two of them.

"Only if he promises not to disappear," Blaine mumbles somewhat sounding like a stubborn five-year old.

Kurt exchanges a compassionate smile with Wes, "He will be here for days."

"Really?" Blaine asks, directing the question at Wes by squeezing him tightly in his arms.

Wes squeezes right back, more careful than Blaine but clearly tangible to the boy, "Really, Dede."

At the nickname Wes feels Blaine trying to get even closer, whispering, tears half choking off his voice again, "Daisy."

"Dede?" Kurt asks utterly confused in a surprised whisper, "Daisy?"

"Blaine never told you, huh?" Wes asks smiling affectionately at Kurt.

Kurt just shakes his head in answer.

"Wanne tell him, or should I?" Wes softly asks Blaine. "Or don't you want Kurt to …?"

"You tell," Blaine answers still not showing any sign of intending to let go off Wes any time soon.

"Okay." Wes, shifting a little on his feet to look at Kurt then renewing his hold on Blaine continues. "We used to make up stories with each other, plans how we could leave our old lives behind and just jump right into a whole new one. One of the plans was about being drag queens together, and we jokingly made up names."

"Dede and Daisy?" Kurt asks smiling fondly.

"Yeah, well, we would have been pretty tame acts, I guess."

"A double act," Kurt supplies.

"A double act, no doubt," Wes echoes. Blaine audibly sniffling in his arms draws his attention entirely back to the boy, "You need your meds." And just like that Wes shifts from best friend to big brother.

"Are you at all hungry, Love?" Kurt asks placing a gentle hand on Blaine's lower back.

"Little," Blaine murmurs back.

"Wes made breakfast. What is it exactly, Wes?"

"Orange-Mango somoothies with yoghurt and just a little bit of oatmeal, you know because it's healthy. Oh and some crushed ice and apple juice of course."

"Sounds good," Blaine answers, sniffles slowly dying down, but now that he steps away a little from Wes Kurt finds Blaine instantly prodding at his bandaged eye.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asks, stepping forward worriedly.

"It feels all squishy," Blaine answers, voice full of nerves.

"Let me see?" Kurt asks already lifting his hands which he carefully uses to peel away the bandage's most outer layer when Blaine replies with a hesitant nod.

There is a red spot that two days ago would have scared the living hell out of Kurt, today though he knows better than to panic, "It's only from the tears, Babe, and a little bleeding, but only a tiny spot, nowhere nearly as bad as the last days," Kurt says softly.

"You promise?" Blaine asks, voice shaking in a way Wes has not heard in a long time, and that makes his insides twist with dread.

"Love," Kurt prompts Blaine to reopen his healthy eye, slipped closed for a moment, in fear, with the wish to hide away from all the bad in this. When Blaine looks back at him Kurt goes on, "I promise."

When Wes reaches over and takes one of Blaine's hands firmly in his own, Blaine lets out a shaky breath, "Ookay."

"Let's change the bandage, then breakfast and pain meds," Kurt prompts softly, holding out his hand for Blaine to take. Blaine only hesitantly lets go of Wes.

"You'll still be here," Blaine whispers, voice torn.

"I'll be right here," Wes hums back in the most reassuring way he knows how.

Kurt catches only another glimpse of Wes before they disappear into the other room, the young man sitting on the edge of the bed now, looking pale.

Kurt is a little unfocused through all of the new bandaging, but if Blaine notices he does not mention it, maybe lost in his own thoughts, nerves.

When Kurt reenters the bedroom alone for a second time, after getting some clothes for Blaine already a few minutes ago, Wes is still sitting there, looking a little less pale and a lot more upset.

"Wes," Kurt hurries forward, pulling Wes into his arms for a change, holding on tight. "It looks worse than it is, I promise. I promise, Wes."

"Where is he?" Wes brings out, voice strung out and wet.

"He wanted to get ready for the day. Did you know he hates moping around in PJs all day?"

"Yeah," Wes smiles weakly, they have had more than enough _sleepovers_ at Dalton for that.

"I don't know how much my parents and the others have told you already, but the doctor yesterday said the operation went as well as it possibly could. And, you know, the usual other stuff about Blaine being young and that making his chances of everything going just fine even better."

"Good," Wes replies, still sitting there somewhat shaken as Kurt lets go and hesitantly stands back up to go and get out Blaine's pills. Wes takes a deep breath and tries to put on a reassuring smile though when the bathroom door reopens and Blaine comes back into the room.

In a mere moment Blaine is sitting right next to him, taking once more a firm hold of one of Wes's hands, "You're really here," Blaine whispers relieved.

Wes lets out a long shaky breath as he looks up and meets Blaine's genuine smile, the whole boy looking much more relaxed now than only minutes ago, 'Kurt, his family, is the best thing that has ever happened to you, isn't it?' Wes thinks as tears begin to sting in his own eyes for the first time since he has arrived here. Wes has seen Blaine broken, broken to pieces. There are cracks here sure, and fear and tears, but … but Blaine has not been broken again. And Wes feels so relieved and so exhaustingly overwhelmed.

"You and Kurt," Blaine says then, gaze soft in a way Wes knows all too well, from all the nights at Dalton of pained pasts, confessions hardly dared to be whispered, confessions of love too, felt to be required to hide before, _"I love Katy Perry, Wes," "I love bowties and 70s disco music, Wes," "Wes, I … I … I love boys."_ "You and Kurt, Wes, you two are the best thing about being me. Don't let me lose you, please."

"I won't, Dede. I won't, I promise," Wes says, as the tears begin to fall across his face and he is pulled into Blaine's arms.


	17. Ir-responsibility

**A/N:**

I posted an outtake from Tears Stained as _**Once Warblers Always Friends**_, it is an **alternate first meeting between Wes and Blaine in Tears Stained** that did not fit the story anymore after I had made some changes but I loved it too much to just delete it.

I'd love to know which you liked better, the one I ended up using here or the other. If you should read it, let me know maybe?

Also, now that I have finished writing _Poison_ this is the next project on my list to finish up, meaning I will be consistently writing for this story now. This chapter is just the beginning of the end though. Plenty more to come.

Lots of Love to everyone (still or newly) with me here,

M

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

**Chapter 17: Ir-responsibility**

* * *

><p>With Wes beside him it is suddenly surprisingly easy to get Blaine to eat breakfast, or maybe it is more the fact that it is much easier to get a smoothie down than a meal that requires all sorts of chewing. Somewhere in there, between having half and fully finished his smoothie Kurt offers Blaine his pills to take.<p>

When the three of them are cuddled up again on the bed, this time sitting up against the headboard, the empty glasses put aside, Wes asks, "So this Sebastian guy … want to tell me what's the deal with him?"

Before really thinking too much, Blaine snuggled tight into his side, Kurt answers, "This is getting more out of hand than the whole Karofsky tragedy."

"The what?" Wes asks confused.

And this is how Wes learns about the day Blaine had disappeared from Dalton.

The story really just spills out of Kurt, and Wes feels Blaine flinch next to him when Kurt talks about the kiss forced onto him and the boy, that football player that had kept coming after him until the day Kurt had left and come to Dalton. "And I thought about it a lot the last days," Kurt adds, holding Blaine a little tighter in that moment, "Sebastian Smythe is a lot with Blaine like Karofsky had been with me. Persistent in a way that borders on obsession, and sure he had not tried to hurt Blaine directly, but right after he learned that Blaine had another half already, he started attacking me, I bet Karofsky would have done the same to Blaine had he been with me already then. That one time in the stairwell at school he had in a way. And I would not put it past Smythe, if Blaine had not been with me but still not interested in him, that he would have started attacking Blaine directly."

"So basically," Wes says, "he does not understand personal boundaries and builds up aggression he does not know what to do with, as soon as someone tells him _no_, and then lashes out?"

"Basically," Blaine confirms quietly, sounding sad and sleepy again now that the new pills are taking effect.

Wes reaches over and takes one of Blaine's hands in his, "Fits with what I've seen."

Kurt and Blaine both look at him with a frown.

"What?" Wes asks.

"You have seen Smythe? When?" Blaine asks, eyes still tired but wide.

"My flight yesterday might have gotten in earlier than I let on," Wes answers looking somewhat guilty now. "I hadn't known the operation had been moved to yesterday or I would have come here right away."

"Wes?" Blaine asks worriedly, squeezing the boys hand in his still tightly. Blaine at this point does not trust anymore that Smythe is beyond hurting anyone he cares about.

"You mostly went to see your parents, right?" Kurt asks, feeling his own heart beat harder, afraid of the alternative.

"No, the house was and is empty as ever. Only ran into the gardener."

"What did you do there all day?" Blaine asks in a scared whisper.

Heaving a sigh, and keeping hold of Blaine's hand in his, Wes answers, "So … I went to my parents' home to get my Dalton uniform … ."

"Your uniform?" Kurt frowns.

The fear cuts clear through Blaine's voice, "Wes?"


	18. When we go our ways

**A/N:**

**Once upon a time ...** (yeah that is how long this story has been up and running) someone asked me about **my take on Jeff being absent** when Santana gets slushied by Sebastian. If you my dear reader and asker are out there still and with me here, in this my chapter you will get your answer. Well, mine;)

**My dear _Eraman _**this is especially much for you. I have a feeling you are going to love this one especially much, tons of Wes and Warblers in here!

You know, when I started writing this I never expected it to become so much about Wes, and I certainly did not have all his backstory mapped out or anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

**Chapter 18: When we go our ways**

* * *

><p>'<em>It feels like half a miracle that they even had kept it,' <em>Wes thinks to himself not for the first time since yesterday, _'as quick as they had been getting Ty's things out of sight.'_ And Wes is fairly sure he will never be able to think about anything related to his parents without thinking about Ty too. To Wes this feels like a good and a bad thing all at once, and mostly, mostly a confusing one.

He has only recently started thinking about what it might be like to be a parent himself, is wondering whether he could ever do it with all the fear in mind. Fear of being like his own parents in all the wrong ways and none of the right ones. Fear of losing a child, like all of his family has lost Ty.

Wes knows his parents are trying, still have to try after all these years, which is an inspiring, confusing and disheartening thought all at once.

Yesterday, Wes had found his room, Ty's old room – he had moved into shortly after meeting Blaine at Dalton, Blaine helping him realize some things about holding on, to love instead of constantly all that fear – literally untouched. Wes had gotten quite a few of Ty's things back down from the attic then, kept his brother close that way through all those years of high school.

Blaine is the one squeezing Wes's hand gently now, pulling him back out of his lonely thoughts.

"So, um, yeah, I … I caught a few glimpses of him yesterday, while trying to spy on The Warblers." There is a beat of silence, then Wes adds, "I needed to know what was going on there. So I put on my Dalton uniform and … ."

Wes cannot count the times he has walked down this staircase. It is the later afternoon, most students in their dorms or at home by now, only a handful of clubs still in session, somewhere on the vast grounds of the school.

One club Wes is certain he knows where to find.

The Warblers have a firmly assigned practice space, they are, not even just when they are singing, after all, one of the noisiest clubs in all of the school.

And true to Wes's memory, even before he has completely rounded the last corner into the hallway that leads to the Warblers' territory he can hear voices … only they are not joining each other in well practiced, or not yet so well practiced harmonies.

"You cannot be SERIOUS!"

He knows this voice, knows it well, though he has never quite heard it like this; this angry. Jeff does not get angry, he gets upset. Like that night he had called Wes about what had happened. Wes had heard him close to tears. This is nothing like that.

Wes does not round the corner fully, only carefully glances around it. He finds a whole, maybe _the _whole group of current Warblers in his line of sight. Most are gazing worriedly, or with almost vicious looking smirks on their faces out of the room to the boys standing at its entrance.

To Wes it looks like it must have been Trent, standing closest to the other boy, who first confronted the tall, slender Warbler with the widest grin on his face – asked him out into the hall, probably, to talk this through. _'Whatever this is.' _

Wes spots Thad and _'David!' _among the crowd of onlookers, while Nick, Jeff and Trent are facing who just must be _'Sebastian Smythe!' _

"Oh, I _am_," Smythe replies.

"Well, count me out, I won't stand by or help you assault anyone else, New Direction or not" Jeff, still very much angered replies.

"Fine," Smythe smirks, "leave then," he stands there with his arms crossed, but whole body at disturbing ease, daring Jeff to take that step, any step away.

"You are very much late suggesting that," Trent says.

"Yeah," Nick confirms.

Smythe just keeps standing there, looking down at them.

Nick is the one to go on, "While you slushied Santana this morning, Jeff went to the headmaster." Nick and Trent had hung behind and followed Smythe around to try and prevent more harm being done. If you would ask Santana, she would say that that plan was neither well thought through, nor clever, and most of all, obviously, had not worked, just ask her suit about it – which Brittany had done, and afterwards informed Santana, _"It's not happy. But I will ask Lord Tubbington which dry cleaner he uses for his suits." _Then she had added whispering secretively, _"You should see some of his Halloween costumes, they MUST be a nightmare to clean Last year he went as Nemo." _

For the first time Wes sees Smythe's smirk falter, just for a brief moment, but still. _'He is not untouchable, and he knows_,' Wes feels sure then.

"Oh?" Smythe replies as cold as he can, voice steady.

"We got permission to start a new club," Trent clarifies.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Smythe asks, smirk back in full force.

He had obviously been suspecting the visit to the headmaster to be about something else, him _'… because how could anything not be,'_ Wes thinks rolling his eyes.

Jeff then turns away from Smythe and to the rest of the choir, "We already have a room assigned. Everyone who wants to join Dalton's new show choir _The Storm Petrels _is welcome."

"Our first meeting is next Monday at four thirty," Nick adds.

Wes feels a strange sense of pride flutter inside his chest, watching his friends trying their best to reduce the support, in part surely blind, that Smythe has within The Warblers even if it means having to leave the group themselves, _'Guys!'_

"And we will put up the first sign-up sheets over the weekend," Trent says.

And then Trent, Jeff and Nick turn and leave.

Wes quickly pulls himself completely back around the corner as he watches the boys hurry by, already back deep in what sounds like animated and outraged conversation.

What breaks Wes's heart most is that of the handful boys that step forward from the crowd and follow the three friends instantly …, _'David'_ and _'Thad'_ are not among them.

It hurts, badly. Not because Thad and David had been on the council with Wes the previous school year, but because _'… we were all friends.'_

Wes fears he will never truly understand what has happened here after he left. What has become obvious to Wes though today is that _'Smythe is not alone.' _There are people in the group who clearly look up to him. For whatever twisted reason. Eagerly follow his every move.

After a moment more, and another glance around the corner, at an now angry faced Smythe turning and disappearing into the room with the remaining Warblers, only catching another glance of the turned backs of Thad and David, Wes retraces his own steps.

Having climbed the staircase though, he hesitates, _'Left, or right?' _

On the left are the dorms.

Heavy-heartedly he takes a right, making his way back to the main entrance, the parking lot, the rental car.

As he closes the car door behind himself he breaths out heavily with muted sounds what has been thrumming in his head ever since he had chosen that right over the left, "I need to see Blaine first."

Turning the key in the ignition there is still something tugging at his heart-strings for him to get back out of the car, walk back into his old school and just pull his old friends into a hug that will make nothing all okay, but hopefully a lot of it better.

"… and then I came here, and because you two were asleep already I went and talked to Santana. And she filled me in on what she could. So I know you have plans for today, Kurt."

"You do?" It is the first Blaine hears of it, having been practically unconscious or mind constantly heavy with sleep most of the time since, well, actually since the whole slushy incident first went down.

"Yes, I do," Kurt answers, "though I _don't_ know if it will still work now that Jeff and the others have left The Warblers."

"I'm sure if you ask them to come to the auditorium as well they will. They were really angry yesterday, sure, but I think they are more sad about all of it still, and sorry, really sorry it got this far at all, that you got hurt at all Blaine. I think they would not ever say no to giving fixing it all and returning to the Warblers a try," Wes reassures Kurt.

"Okay," Kurt looks at Wes with a small smile.

"Can either of you tell me now," Blaine says through a sudden yawn, "what the plan is?" Another yawn.

"Love," Kurt turns his head to press a kiss to Blaine's curls, "of course. But then you take another nap. You need tons of sleep to recover as best as you can. Deal?"

"Deal," Blaine mumbles, scooting already a little lower along the line of Kurt's shoulder.

"Wanne lie down?" Kurt asks, as he sees Blaine's eyes drift shut.

"Mmh," Blaine hums.

So in a short while Blaine's head ends up resting on Kurt's upper thigh, the boy stretched out on the bed on his back, as he listens to Wes and Kurt telling him about the plans made so far, listens to them making further plans too, one hand of Blaine's still holding Wes's, joined fingers a warm weight resting beside Blaine's head, Blaine able to reassure himself _'… you're right here,'_ with one simple squeeze.

The last thing Blaine hears before he drifts back into a sleep, full of the promise of rest deeper than any the last days, is Wes's voice, "I'm so glad I am here," and Kurt's answer, "We missed you terribly."

And Wes thinks he feels Blaine's hand tightening on his for a moment in response to Kurt's words.

As he looks down next, from Kurt to Blaine, Blaine's mouth is slightly parted, breathing even.

'_So glad I'm here.'_


	19. All eyes on

**A/N: **I'm sorry this update took so long. I'm about to have my last big exam at university in only some weeks, and some other stuff went down too, and fear connected to all of that makes me horribly and painfully unproductive in all the work that is most important to me. I hope you like the read none the less. Only a couple more chapters left until this story will be complete.

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained <strong>

**Chapter 19: All eyes on …**

* * *

><p>Kurt and Wes both feel weird and cannot help the bad feeling they share when they leave Blaine behind in Kurt's home – fast asleep in Kurt's bed, but that knowledge and even Burt insisting on staying home with Blaine while they, Finn and Carole are out, only eases so much of the worry.<p>

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Kurt whispers, as his left hand carefully caresses Blaine's features, and he leans down to place a kiss to Blaine's cheek. "I love you."

"He'll be fine," Wes assures in a whisper, supported by a deep hum from Burt, walking them downstairs.

"You be careful, you two."

His father looks entirely too worried for Kurt's taste. Stepping close he pulls him into a tight hug, "Dad, it will be fine. We will be fine."

"Okay," Burt hums, as he squeezes his son firmly back. "… okay."

Wes is fast to look away, to step outside already, and part from the man only with a distant wave.

Burt stays by the door until the car is out of sight – walking back up the stairs a moment later and taking a seat on the couch on the other side of Kurt's room, quietly watching over the boy he knows means the world to Kurt, the young man who is beginning to mean more and more to him too. "Thank you," Burt almost silently whispers, "… thank you for loving my boy so very much, Blaine."

Burt is startled as the boy moves in between the covers, weight presumably shifting into a more comfortable position, before the quietness of the house fills too this room.

The New Directions have been briefed and re-rehearsed, are all mingling now some more in the choir room, will all be back very soon, taking their assigned positions, but for now, in this moment, Kurt is alone on stage, can appreciate the quiet and solitude especially much this time, after all the previous days, crammed with exhaustion, worry and pain.

Kurt is beaming none the less when he sees "Wes!" re-enter the auditorium. He had begun to wonder where his friend had disappeared to while they had been re-rehearsing. "You are in your old Dalton uniform."

"I thought it might give me some authority with the new guys in the group. I also had a quick look outside, and I saw all of them pull up in their cars just before I came back in. So they should be here any moment now. I'll wait in the wings."

"Okay, brilliant. Thank you again for being here."

"The guys seem to need some sense infusion, and I really wanted to see you and Blaine. I still can't believe they follow that guy around like pit-bulls, fletching their teeth."

Kurt gives a weak smile, "Well, to be fair, they followed Blaine around like lovesick puppies, most days."

"I don't know about you, but puppy to pit-bull, to me that screams devolution," Wes replies, shaking his head, smile pained. "I better go. Don't want to spoil the surprise."

Kurt nods to Wes one more time, as the New Directions pour out onto the stage, and soon enough the Warblers step through the doors of the auditorium as well.

The performance goes as planned, and Kurt and Wes, hiding himself away deeper in the wings still, exchange a quick glance of relief as the Warblers, one after the other, join the New Directions on stage.

Wes waits until Smythe has grumpily gotten to his feet and left, glad to see it had not taken as much as he had feared to pry the Warblers out of that slimy net they had been spun into.

As the applause dies away, a hollow knocking sound remains, and not only the Warblers look around confused for a moment.

"Kurt what is going on? What is that?" Jeff asks, noticing the smile on Kurt's face.

The sound's source becomes apparent as a boy in Dalton uniform, the new members do not recognize as one of them, takes the first couple of steps out onto the stage.

"You really should have known better. ALL of you," Wes says looking into the crowd and at no one in particular, though his eyes linger on Trent, Nick and Jeff, hush quickly over David and Thad.

"Wes?"

Wes's eyes bounce back to David at the simple sound.

And David would run over and hug his friend did Wes not look so positively livid, arms crossed over his chest, gavel in his left hand. Kurt can only assume Wes has kept with his uniform all along – made sure to be here for emphasis.

Wes is not in a forgiving mood, not yet. "Explain yourselves. Now!"

The silence that follows is deafening. It is not the comfortable quiet of a lazy afternoon cuddle with the person you love most in this life, not the sound of a night of warm tranquility. Wes's ears are already ringing with the hollowness of his former friends' silence, and he feels that sinking feeling again he had when David and Thad had abandoned their friends' side. Although he had known there and then this split in his former group of friends must have happened a while ago, maybe even totally unrelated to Sebastian Smythe. And he had known, there and then, too, there will be no fixing this, because there is nothing to be fixed here. Dynamics shift and people change when people, someone leaves. He had been the one to leave first. So who is he to blame anyone for this side of things? Wes is not mad about any of that. He had wished it all to work out differently, sure, … but it had not.

And Wes is livid, and tells them so, "… LIVID down to my core for any of you having allowed this all to get SO out of hand. You really hurt Kurt and Blaine, and I am not only talking about Blaine's eye. But that alone is bad enough. Were any of you thinking anything when you agreed to take part in that? Tainted or not, throwing slushies into anyone's face, since when is that what we do?"

"Who even is this guy, prancing in here …," one of the new Warblers starts until ….

"Shut up," one of the older boys hushes him, "he is the reason being a Warbler is even this big a deal at Dalton at all these days."

"What, did he hang the stars and the moon too?" the same guy goes on louder now.

Wes turns his gaze on him then, "You," the boy's ego instantly visibly shrinks with all eyes on him now, "… you are very welcome to leave. Follow in the footsteps of your idol, and just … go. This group has never needed people who were just in it for the attention. We never used to be about that, and it made us so SO much better, that I am sure the group could still do just fine without not only Sebastian Smythe, but without you too."

"What do you mean without Smythe?" another boy asks.

"I am imploring you guys to vote him out of the Warblers, today, here, right now. And don't wait to make it official until Monday. Thad, I know you still have our headmaster's number somewhere in that phone. He still says we can call him any time during the week provided we leave him his peace on Saturday and Sunday, right?"

"Yes," Thad confirms hesitantly.

Wes had counted on this, on the fact that although Smythe had declared himself captain, there are still obligations involved for the group, Wes had in no way expected Smythe to have taken on himself, instead delegating everything to others. "Good. So, Please," Wes looks around the room again, "… we will give you the auditorium for the next 15 minutes should you need them. Take that vote. And let me know what you decide?" Wes directs the question at Trent, Jeff and Nick who are still standing there in slight shock that Wes is here at all, but they nod.

And with that reassurance Wes and the New Directions leave The Warblers alone, to fight it all out if there is still a need for that.


	20. The Means and The Ends

**A/N: **

This is the last chapter, after it there is only the epilogue left. Thank you to all of you who have read and commented and talked to me about their love for this story. Most of all though a big thank you from me to all of you who have stuck around to see this story brought to a close, I know it has been a challenge. All I can say is that writing this story has been a challenge for me too, but a beautiful, rewarding one more than anything.

xo M

* * *

><p><strong>Tears Stained<strong>

**Chapter 20: The Means and The Ends**

* * *

><p>"You really did?" Wes asks, eyes wide, starring at the blond boy in front of him.<p>

"Yeah," Jeff beams, "I called him in the evening, after Nick had talked to our headmaster and made it all official, and told him he is out of _The Warblers_."

Wes has to smile to himself at the thought that for him all this started with a phone call Jeff made, and seems to kind of end with one of those too.

"So what exactly did Smythe say?" Trent asks, sitting with Nick, Jeff and Wes, hearing this part of the story for the first time as well.

"Say?" Jeff asks, raising his eyebrows, "Well, he cursed mostly. Calling us immature, untalented idiots, and other things."

"Oh, the usual then," Nick says with a smirk, but more so eyes alight with undeniable relief. 'It's over.'

"Yeah, pretty much," Jeff answers with a grin of his own before all the boys burst out laughing, even Kurt and Blaine, who have been sitting fairly somber and quiet the last half hour.

Blaine lets out a sigh, burrows deeper into Kurt's arms, which he has been cuddled up in for all of this conversation, the two leaning against the headboard of Kurt's bed, surrounded by their Dalton friends.

It is a moment later that they hear the doorbell, in the middle of Wes telling them about his college roommate's obsession with Charlie Chaplin. "He is not even a film student. But seriously, every opportunity ever he dresses up as Cha…."

The knock on the bedroom door interrupting Wes does not come entirely unexpected.

"Yeah?" Kurt calls.

As the door is opened Burt comes into view, a smile quickly spreading on his face at the sight. It is better than good to see his little boy surrounded by friends who in the end had done the right thing and stood up for him and Blaine.

Kurt is surprised though as he sees his dad's expression darken as fast as it had just lit up.

"Wait a minute, aren't you Jeff?" Burt asks with a pointed look at well, ….

"Yes. Why?" the boy answers worried look on his face.

"Then who is the guy at the front door claiming to be you?"

Blaine, worriedly glances between Jeff and Burt for a moment then whispers, "Smythe."

Burt, already turning on the spot growls, "I am going to rip that guy a …."

The rest of the sentence is lost in the tumult that follows all the Dalton boys getting to their feet and rushing to follow Burt down the stairs to the front door.

Kurt, after squeezing Blaine warmly once more helps him to his feet, the painkillers have yet to start being fun in any way if you ask Blaine, feeling especially groggy today leaning on Kurt again a second after he is standing upright.

And so it is about two minutes after everyone else that Kurt and Blaine find themselves stopping in midst of the last flight of stairs, with the other boys and Burt frozen into place only feet ahead of them while there is one voice alone heard booming through the house.

Carole, though small in statue, has never looked more intimidating.

"… really thought you could pass yourself off as that sweet boy who tried to do the right thing still after you made such a mess of everything."

"I don't even know what you are talking about," Sebastian snaps back.

"And frankly you do not deserve an explanation. _You _least of anyone. But I am telling you this, I know my boys' friends, and you have never been one of them. How dare you come here? Undoubtedly to try your best and inflict still more pain. It is so far beyond me to even so much as try and figure you out."

"No one has asked you to."

"Well, good for the both of us then, because I am in no mood to spend the time required to solve that puzzle with you any time soon," Carole keeps going. "If you ever come here again without explicit invitation, or I hear you are making trouble for any of the boys you will learn what it really means to _be in trouble_."

Carole turns as she catches Sebastian glimpse past her for a second before turning away and storming down the street towards his parked car. Not that Carole sees any of this, standing there, a slight blush on her cheeks form all the agitation of having been shouting at Sebastian for quite a while it seems.

And just like that, faced with the stunned faces of her guests and family – even Finn having come down from his room, peeking in on the scene with more confusion on his face than anyone else, whispering "Mom?" into the silence – Carole's demeanor changes back to the mild manner everyone here knows to be her most prominent side.

Carole clears her throat as she closes the front door behind herself without looking. "I came out to see who it was, at the door, when Burt disappeared upstairs. And he claimed to be you Jeff and asked to be allowed to visit Kurt and Blaine. So I, um, …."

Carole is cut off for good by Blaine crashing through the lines and throwing himself into her arms, almost stumbling in the process.

"Thank you," Blaine mumbles into her shoulder, as he keeps holding on the hug only tightening from both sides.

"Sweetheart?" Carole asks after some moments of silence.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you so so much."

"What for, Honey?" Carole tries once more.

"My mom would have just …, she wouldn't … ." Blaine is blubbering with tears now.

"Blaine," Carole says softly, "I'll always stick up for you. Always."


	21. Epilogue

**Tears Stained**

**Epilogue **

* * *

><p>The airport is quiet at this hour.<p>

They are a handful of the few people here at all. The early hour is a result of Wes staying until the very last moment, mostly.

Burt and Carole had wanted Kurt to take Wes alone, joined by one of them, for Blaine to sleep in, get that rest all the doctors have ordered over and over to further the healing process.

But Blaine can be stubborn when he wants to be. And so Wes and Blaine stand hugging in front of the first barrier Wes has to take alone.

"Can we see each other more?" Wes is the one to ask.

Blaine had had another nightmare, another panic attack last night, had only calmed after Kurt and Wes had both laid down beside him, the others' arms linked over Blaine's body, their body-heat keeping him calm and warm. "I need you, Wes," Blaine breathes, voice breaking.

"I need you too," Wes replies, wiping tears from his eyes as he steps back and reaches for his luggage. "How is your eye today?"

Blaine's throat escapes a hiccupy laugh at that, Blaine reaching to trace along the bandage. "You know, just now, I had forgotten there is anything the matter with it."

"It will be healed up before you know it," Wes reassures.

"Before I see you again?"

"How does Skype sound? Tomorrow at, um … eight? Your time?" Wes asks smiling.

"Amazing."

As Kurt and Blaine walk back to their car, passing through the airport's vast entrance hall they had crossed not half an hour ago with Wes alongside them into the other direction, Blaine cuddling deeper into Kurt's side says, "I miss him already."

"Yeah," is all Kurt replies, knowing Blaine is not in need of an elaborate reply just now. Instead Kurt turns his head and places a kiss to Blaine's curls.

Blaine smiles, maybe for the first time since that slushy was first thrown smiles this relaxed. "You know, this all turned out much better than I had ever thought it could."

"And how's your pain?"

Blaine stops his steps then, thoroughly relaces his fingers with Kurt's and looking up at him goes to place a kiss to Kurt's lips.

"What pain?"

**THE END**


End file.
